Tutoring Tami
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: Tami Hayes has one semester left of high school. If she doesn't pass Algebra II, she won't graduate. So why did she have to get the jock for her peer tutor?
1. Wednesday, December 30, 1987

**[Wednesday, December 30, 1987]**

Tami unclasped the gold chain from around her neck, at the end of which dangled the state championship ring Mo McArnold had earned their junior year. He'd given it to her last Valentine's Day as a token of his commitment to their steady relationship. Seventeen months they had been dating now.

Seventeen months.

That was a lifetime in high school.

She threw it at his chest, hard.

Mo caught the ring in his hand, the chain dangling over his palm.

"What the hell?" he asked. He was standing outside the front door of his five-bedroom house, where she'd stopped when she got off her shift from Chili's. A light dusting of snow coated the porch light, dampening the glow.

"I know you're cheating with your rally girl from last season!" she shouted "I know! We're over!"

"You're breaking up with me _now_? With senior prom less than four months away?"

"You're cheating!"

He didn't deny it. "How did you find out?"

"I have my sources." Tami had learned from the other girl, who hoped that by telling Tami, she'd have Mo all to herself. Well she was right. Let that bitch have Mo. He was nothing but a cheater anyway.

"Was it someone on the team?" Mo asked. "They all want you, you know. All the guys."

"All the guys but _you_."

"I still want you. _You're_ the one who's breaking up with _me_."

Tami shook her head.

"Who was it? I need to know. I need to know who's not a team player."

"Oh, that's what you're worried about?" Tami spat. "Not about losing" – she waved hand over herself – "the best thing you ever had?"

"Who was it, Tami?"

"No one on the team told me. Believe it or don't. I don't care."

She didn't know why it mattered to Mo anyway. Football season was over. Mo was graduating at the end of May, as was half of the varsity team. But probably not Tami. She was set to flunk Algebra II, which was a requirement for graduation. She'd earned an F the first quarter and a D- the second.

Tami Hayes was not stupid by any means, but she'd been busy – busy with Mo, and busy with work. She'd worked twenty hours a week since she was fourteen, and as soon as she turned seventeen and was legally permitted to work more during the school year, she bumped it up to thirty. Her dad had died six years ago in a refinery explosion that killed five workers. The life insurance covered his funeral costs and a portion of the outstanding mortgage, but it wasn't enough, not when her mother was a high school dropout who couldn't earn much above minimum wage.

"Either way," Tami told Mo. "We're over."

She strutted to her two-door sedan, which had a scratch along the side she was never going to pay to repair, got in, and cranked the engine. She slammed down on the accelerator, wanting to peel off in a dramatic fashion, but of course the old car only lurched, groaned, and began its journey slowly down the street.


	2. Thursday, December 31, 1987

**[Thursday, December 31]**

Shelley knocked on the door of Tami's room in their 950-square foot, three-bedroom, one bathroom house. Mo's parents had a walk-in closet the size of Tami's bedroom. Mom had sold the old, larger house and downsized to this one three years ago, using the money to pay down debt.

"Are you coming out?" Shelley asked. "We're about to ring in the New Year."

Tami rolled onto her back. The pillow she'd been lying face-down on was soaked from her tears. "I'll be there in a minute!"

When she emerged to the living room, where Mom had the TV on and tuned to the ball drop one hour ahead in New York, there were three glasses of sparkling cider poured. A real splurge for Mom. Milk and water were the only beverages they ever kept in the house.

Tami sat down on the couch. Shelley looked at her reddened eyes. "Mo's a jerk," she said.

"Don't use the word jerk," Mrs. Hayes insisted. (Mom hadn't reverted to her maiden name since Dad died, and she still went by Mrs.) "It's vulgar." She looked at Tami. "But he is. I told you should avoid dating until you were 18 anyway."

"Well I'm 18 now." Tami had just turned the magical number in the fall. Mo had given her a pair of heart-shaped earrings.

Tami seized the sparkling cider, wishing it was champagne, or an entire box of cheap wine. She counted down with them, toasted, chugged, and went back to her room to cry in private.


	3. New Year's Day, 1988

**[Friday, January 1, 1988]**

"Hi, Mrs. Mason," Tami said. She was sitting on the couch and holding the living room phone, the one and only phone in the house. Not that it was unusual to have only one phone back then. "It's Tami Hayes. Sorry to call you at home on a holiday." The school guidance counselor had given Tami her home number and told her to call if she changed her mind. "I think I would like to sign up for peer tutoring for my last semester after all. Think you could match me up with a good tutor for Algebra II?"

Tami didn't want to end up a high school dropout like her mom, living from paycheck to paycheck. And she'd be damned if she was ever going to rely on a man. They either cheated on you or they died on you.

"I know just the young man to help you," Mrs. Mason said. "You'll meet with him Mondays and Wednesdays, in the library, immediately after school, for one hour. Can you swing that?"

"My shift at Chili's doesn't start until 4." School ran from 7:30 AM – 2:30 PM. Tami waitressed Monday through Thursday and Sunday form 4-10, which was a sweet deal, because that was dinner hour, which meant more tips, and it also meant she had her weekends off. That used to matter to her, when it was football season and she spent her Friday nights and Saturdays with Mo. "I can manage that."


	4. Saturday, January 2, 1988

**[Saturday, January 2, 1988]**

In addition to passing Algebra II, Tami need 25 volunteer hours to graduate, but there was no way she was going to have time for that. Not when she had to work thirty hours a week and study like a demon to make up for her first two quarters of Ds and Fs in Algebra II. So when she walked into the office at the nursing home to talk to the volunteer coordinator, she was glad to see Tom Williams, a sweet, nerdy boy who had graduated from Tyler High last year and who had possessed the worst crush on her for two of the three years their high school time overlapped.

She flashed him her sweetest smile. "Hi, Tom," she said. "You work here now? I thought you were in college?"

He flushed and stood from his desk. "I only got a 50% academic scholarship. I need to work a year and save up before I go. You want to volunteer here?"

"Well…I really don't have the time. You know how many hours I have to work. And I'm trying to pull up my grades this last semester." She held out the volunteer sign-off sheet to him. "Maybe you could fudge it a little bit? Say I did all 25 hours last semester? Just sign it?"

"Uh….I really can't do that, Tami. That's not ethical."

She'd honestly expected him just to sign it. She could often get what she wanted from guys, using just a smile and a hint of approval. She was clearly going to have to sweeten the pot. "What if I said we could kiss for five minutes? Would that help persuade you?"

 _Why not?_ Tami thought. She wasn't with Mo anymore. _She_ wasn't a cheater, even if he was. It was hardly revenge, to kiss a boy who wasn't popular, but if it meant she had a better chance of graduating…besides, Tom was sweet. And smart. She _wished_ she could like him. She _wished_ she could feel any physical attraction to him at all. Tami had earned a D+ in chemistry last year. She didn't understand how any of that worked.

The young man flushed even redder. "Uh…" He laughed nervously. "Yeah. Okay. You better shut the door."

He wasn't as bad a kisser as she had feared he would be, but he wasn't precisely good at it either. She still had no interest in dating him. This wasn't a teen romantic comedy, where the nerd suddenly got the pretty girl. There was still no attraction there.

"Thanks, Tom," she said sweetly as he scrawled his signature on the bottom of the volunteer sing-off sheet.


	5. Sunday, January 3

**[Sunday, January 3]**

"Sarah, can you please take table six?" Tami asked her fellow waitress and friend. Mo was at table six, with a gaggle of friends.

If this was when Mo went to Chili's, Tami was going to permanently change her Sunday shift to Friday. She didn't need her Fridays off anymore, now that it wasn't football season. Besides, she could use her entire weekend to study, now that she was determined to graduate.

Sarah followed her gaze. "Sure," she said. "He's a jerk, Tami. Good riddance."

"Yeah," Tami muttered. But how could such a jerk once have been so sweet to her? He'd told her he loved her. Left notes in her locker. Carried her books. Walked her to class. He would have bought her lunch, she supposed, if she wasn't already on the free lunch program.

As Tami began unloading plates at her own booth on the other side of the low divider from Mo's, she heard Sarah say, "So where's Eric Taylor? He doesn't hang with y'all?"

"QB1?" a linebacker asked. "He's probably driving back from Denton. He goes every weekend to visit his girlfriend."

"Eric's _always_ too busy to hang," Mo said. "Too cool for us. But who got the A &M offer, huh?" He pointed to himself with two thumbs. "Who's going to be an Aggie, and who's just going to be a Baylor Bear?"

"To be fair," the punter said, "Baylor did offer him a _full_ ride. And it is an hour closer to his girlfriend at UNT."

"Must be sweet to already have a college girl," a fullback said. "I hear they like to experiment with other girls."

"That's not going to last," Mo said. "She's two years older than him. No way she isn't banging someone else by now. And they only dated a year before she graduated."

"A year's a long time," Sarah told him, "to date someone. It ought to count for something."

It _ought_ to, Tami agreed, but it hadn't. Not with Mo.

"They've been together ever since she graduated," the punter said. "That's two and half years now."

Mo glanced across the booth and caught Tami looking at him. He smiled. From behind her checkbook, so she wouldn't be seen by her own customers, she flicked him off. Then, in her sweetest, most southern voice, she asked her table, "Can I get y'all anything else?"

They asked for more beer.

As she walked back to the kitchen, Tami swore to herself that she was going to get over Mo McArnold. She should have seen it coming. Football players. They were the worst offenders. She was never going to date another one as long as she lived.


	6. Monday, January 4

**[Monday, January 4]**

When Tami walked into the library and went toward the back where the tutoring tables were located, there was only one person sitting in the entire section: Eric Taylor.

Tami didn't know much about him. He and Mo were teammates, but not really friends. She and Eric had never shared a class together. Nor had they socialized at the football parties, because Eric was usually out of town visiting his college girlfriend on the weekends. But Tami knew about him the only thing she needed to know. He had been the first string quarterback of the Tyler Tigers for the past two years. The guidance counselor, whom Tami once believed actually cared about her success, had in fact written her off. Mrs. Mason had assigned her a _jock_.

Tami yanked out the chair across from him and plopped down. She sighed and slapped her backpack down on the table. "Please tell me you aren't my peer tutor."

Eric had a pencil shoved behind his ear. He pointed to it. "What? Don't I look studious enough for you?"

"You're just trying to get your volunteer hours, aren't you?" she asked him.

"Well I'm not doing it out of the kindness of my heart," Eric admitted. He had on his burnt orange letter jacket, which set off the brown and yellow flecks in his eyes.

Tami knew he had pretty eyes, if only because they'd voted for senior superlatives in December, and he was on the ballot in the "prettiest eyes" category, as well as in the "best sportsmanship" category _and_ the "most athletic" 'd just been listed on the ballot under "best hair" and "best smile." Well, she and Mo had also been in the "cutest couple" category, and they'd probably won too. The yearbook editors would have to give it to the runner-up now.

Tami knew Eric had pretty eyes, but she'd never been quite this physically close to him before, close enough to look _straight_ into those eyes. They weren't pretty. They were downright gorgeous. He had a nice build, too, and she liked how dark and thick his hair was. Longer hair was the fashion for boys this year, even for the football players, but it was clear Eric couldn't grow his out. It went halfway down his neck and then curled up in the back.

"But that doesn't mean I'm going to suck at it either," Eric said.

"Why did I get assigned the jock? I actually _need_ this help."

"You know, sweetheart," he said, his tone dripping with condescension, "you can't volunteer to be a peer tutor unless you finished the subject _and_ you got at least a B+ in it. Which I did. _Last year_. An A-, to be precise."

"Well we all know how football players earn their grades."

"Well they don't earn them by volunteering to make-out with someone for five minutes."

"What? How do you – how – "

"- Everybody knows about it," Eric said. "He bragged about it to his friend, who's a senior here, who spread it all over school. Said you were an amazing kisser and that you use a lot of tongue."

Tami slumped back in her chair. "And I thought he was such a sweet guy, too. I can't _believe_ he talked about it. What a jerk!"

"C'mon, give him a break. How _couldn't_ he talk about it? He's probably never been kissed in his life, and he got to make out with the hottest girl at Tyler High?"

Eric thought she was the hottest girl at Tyler High? Tami knew she was attractive, and the boys noticed her, but they had a large school, a senior class of 500, and when the guys were making their mental rankings, she figured she fell somewhere closer to number 9 than to number 1.

"Do you actually know Algebra II?" she asked. "Please tell me honestly. I have to work thirty hours a week. And I have to pass this class to graduate this year. I can't waste any time."

He took his pencil out from behind his ear. "My time is valuable too. I work twenty hours a week."

"Why? You can't be saving for college. You already got offered a full ride to Baylor for football."

"I need money to keep my truck repaired. And spending money. And gas money. And date money."

"Your parents don't give you any money?" Mo got a $30 a week allowance. Tami thought that was ridiculous, but that was football players for you. Spoiled. She didn't get any allowance, of course. In fact, she kicked back $40 a week of her earnings to her mom.

"It's just me and my dad," Eric said. "He provides. Food, shelter, clothing. I'm expected to buy any non-essentials I want."

"I didn't know that," Tami said. She was surprised to think how little she knew about Eric Taylor. As the varsity quarterback, Eric was talked about. Mostly, though, the girls talked about his body, and the boys talked about his football stats. She hadn't heard much about his life. "My dad died when I was 12," she said. "So I know what that's like. How old were you when your mom died?"

"She's not dead. At least I don't think so. She just left right after I was born."

Tami's eyes widened. She knew a lot of dads who had skipped town on their kids, but this was the first time she'd heard of a mom doing it. "Why?"

"She didn't want me in the first place. My dad knocked her up when she was eighteen and he was nineteen. She wanted an abortion. He talked her into having me, and she left me with him, and then she took off."

"That must have been really hard for your dad, to raise you alone like that."

"Yeah. He played amateur football right out of high school, and he was really good, so good he might have eventually gotten noticed by the AFL. But it took up too much time and it didn't pay much of anything, so he had to quit to raise me. He works two jobs. He's a carpet layer during the week and a handyman on weekends and evenings. He works all the time."

"He's always at your games, though." Tami had always assumed there was a mother somewhere, in the stands, but that she just didn't come down to the sidelines afterward, the way Mr. Taylor did. When Tami was hugging and congratulating Mo, Mr. Taylor would be talking, head bent, to his son.

"Yeah. He never works Friday nights in the fall."

"Your dad never got married?" Her mom was dating currently, for the first time since Dad had died. She was seeing their pastor, which was really weird to Tami. The man was ten years older than her mom, and he had just lost his wife two years ago. There was nothing wrong with him, really, it's just that he was the _pastor_.

Eric shook his head.

"Why not?" Tami asked. She'd seen Mr. Taylor there on the sidelines. He was a good-looking man.

Eric shrugged. "I don't know."

"But he dates?"

"I'm sure he does, but he doesn't tell me about it. He's always home by midnight. He hasn't ever introduced me to a girlfriend."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. So am I tutoring you or are we just sharing our life stories?" Eric asked.

"Can you actually help me? Honestly?"

"I earned my A-," he said. "And I'm a good tutor. You're damn lucky you got me instead of one of those A+ math nerds. They know how to _do_ the math. They don't know how to _teach_ it."

Tami unzipped her backpack. She pulled out a test, with the number 64 circled in red ink at the top. "This is from last quarter. Let's start with this."

Eric _did_ know how to teach. He talked her through every problem she had missed on that test, step by step. When she struggled with a concept, he made up his own similar problems and then talked her through those. Then he made her do some problems on her own. She was still asking him questions fifteen minutes after their session was over. He glanced at his watch. "I have to get going," he said. "I'm going to be late for work."

"So am I," Tami told him. "My shift at Chili's starts at 4. Where do you work?"

"Whattaburger."

"Oh. I'd hate that. No tips."

"Free food though."

Tami collected her book and test and papers and started shoving them in her backpack. When they stood from the table, she realized that Eric was almost exactly the same height as Mo. That could work. She was already used to kissing someone five inches taller than her.

Now why on earth had she just thought that? Eric had a girlfriend, and she was never, ever dating a football player again anyway.

"See you Wednesday," she said, and slung her backpack over her shoulder.


	7. Tuesday, January 5

**A/N:** I am going on vacation, so, if I end up not updating much (or at all) within the next 9 days, that is why. _**Comments appreciated!**_

 **[Tuesday, January 5]**

Tami was suddenly aware of Eric's presence around school. He'd blended in to the crowd before, but it seemed she was seeing him everywhere now. Mostly she saw him hanging out with Joey Washington, an enormous, black fullback who had befuddled many on the team by taking four AP classes his junior year _and_ singing in the spring musical.

Tami assumed Eric must have a local girlfriend in addition to his college one. That's just how football players were. They were the worst offenders. Two-timing playboys, every last one of them. Eric probably snuck off with his sidepiece under the bleachers or in a stairwell during lunch. That's what Mo had done, because he and Tami had different lunch periods this year.

Except...Eric and Tami had the _same_ lunch period, and today he was in the cafeteria the entire time, sitting with Joey and two other football players, a couple of benchwarmers whose names she didn't know. They ate and talked and laughed and played that paper football game, where someone flicks a sheet of folded paper through the goal post of another person's hands.

Tami kept glancing from her own table two rows back every time she heard Eric's laugh burst out, overcoming the indistinct hum of two hundred individual voices with its unique depth. At the tail end of every one of his laughs there lingered an amazing smile that transformed his face, almost as though he became a different person. Why hadn't _he_ been on the ballot for best smile?

"Looking for your rebound guy?" Sarah Wilks asked, following her gaze. Sarah was her best friend. They didn't have any classes together – Sarah was in the advanced academics program and had been on the superlatives ballot for "teacher's pet" – but they worked the same shift at Chili's, and a friendship had bloomed through their shared complaints about the manager and customers. "Eric Taylor?" Sarah asked. "You know he has that girlfriend in college."

"I have no interest in Eric Taylor," Tami insisted. "I'm never dating another football player."

Sarah shrugged. "Joey's in a lot of my classes. He seems to think Eric's a good guy. And he's definitely hot. Eric I mean. Not Joey. If he didn't have a girlfriend, I'd go for him. Think he likes the sexy librarian type?" She lowered her glasses to the tip of her nose and pursed her lips in a fake, sexy pout.

Tami laughed. "I don't know, but I bet Joey does. You _know_ he likes you."

Joey had asked Sarah to junior prom last year. Sarah had said she thought proms were expensive cliches, and she never had any intention of attending one. Tami had gone with Mo, of course. They'd been chosen prom king and queen. Then, at the start of their senior year, they'd been selected Homecoming king and queen. It seemed the whole school thought they were destined for each other. Tami had once believed it too.

"Joey's smart," Sarah conceded. "He's nice. And he can _sing_. He's just a little big for me. I feel like he'd crush me to death if we ever did it."

The paper football flew all the way over the table that divided them and plopped straight into Sarah's soup. Eric jogged over, leaned with two hands against the edge of their table, and looked at the football floating there. He turned his head back toward his table and shouted, "Touchdown!"

"Foul!" Joey insisted as he stood and made his way ponderously over to the table. "Hey, Sarah." He smiled at her. "Sorry about your soup."

"It wasn't edible anyway," she said. "I'm not sure what the chicken in the chicken noodle is."

"I've still got half a PBJ if you want it," Joey told her.

"He already ate the other five halves," Eric said.

Sarah chuckled, Tami smiled, and Joey pounded his fist lightly on Eric's head.

"Don't mess up my hair," Eric complained as he ran his fingers through it.

"You already messed it up by growing that ridiculous mullet," Joey told him.

Tami chortled.

"It's not a mullet," Eric insisted. "It's not long enough. And it's neat in the back."

"You _would_ look better with short hair," Tami agreed, though the wavy curl toward the bottom in the back was kind of cute.

"Listen to her," Joey said. "She was on the ballot for best hair. Can I touch it?"

"My hair?" Tami asked.

"Yeah. I want to know what's so spectacular about it that it deserves a superlative. Does it feel like silk or something?"

"Man, that's creepy," Eric said. "You don't ask a lady if you can touch her hair."

"I just want to know – what do they mean by superlative hair? Does it feel like silk?"

"Nah, man," Eric said, "it's just thick and flowing and a really nice color. That's what they mean. They don't mean what it feels like."

"No," Tami said. "It's because it feels _exactly_ like silk."

"Really?" Eric reached out and touched the end of her hair where it fell half way down her back. "It _is_ soft," he told Joey.

Joey reached out and touched it too.

"Everybody stop touching my hair," Tami said. "My hair is not a hands-on exhibit."

The warning bell for 4th period rung.

"We have to get to Calculus," Joey told Sarah. "Want me to walk with you?"

"Calculus," Eric said, glancing at Tami, who was standing and grabbing her tray. "Couple of geniuses we got here, huh? Maybe Joey or Sarah should be tutoring you."

"I don't remember Algebra II anymore," Sarah said. "That was two years ago."

"I already finished my volunteer hours," Joey said. "And you know, Taylor, you could have taken pre-Calc this year if you wanted."

"But why would I?" Eric asked. "It's not required."

"What do you have next?" Tami asked as she dumped her tray in a nearby trashcan.

"Shop," Eric answered. "I hope we build something really useful like a birdhouse. My dad just loves it when I bring home birdhouses."

Tami chuckled and picked up her backpack by one strap. "See you tomorrow at tutoring."


	8. Wednesday, January 6

**[Wednesday, January 6]**

When Tami showed up for her tutoring session, she noticed Eric had gotten a haircut. It was shorter now. Had he actually taken her words to heart? Probably not. Likely it was Joey's ribbing that had inspired him.

"Your hair looks nice," she said when she sat down.

"Thanks. So does yours. Like it should be on a ballot for best hair or something. Oh. Wait. It _is_."

She rolled her eyes. "I can't imagine why you weren't on the ballot for class clown."

"Your smile too, right?" Eric asked. "You got that sweet southern thing going with that. Funny, when you consider your sharp tongue."

Was he flirting with her or making fun of her? Or was he just bad at making small talk? Tami always knew what guys were after. She really had no idea here. "Let's get started," she said and drew out her homework.

Eric talked her through her homework for both Tuesday and tonight. Tami was surprised at how diligent he was with her. It was clear he was frustrated by her lack of understanding at times, but he bit that irritation down between his back teeth and just went over the material again a different way until she grasped it.

Mo had never been so patient. He'd tried to teach her to drive a stick shift once, and they'd ended up yelling at each other:

 _"Damnit, Tami! You're so stubborn. It's a waste of time trying to teach you this!"_

 _"Fine!" she shouted finally, feeling herself near tears, "I'll just get someone else to teach me!"_

 _"Why do you want to learn, anyway?" Mo shouted back. "You have an automatic!"_

 _Upset they were fighting, and afraid of where the fight might lead, she swallowed her feelings and smiled suggestively at him. She shifted the conversational gear_ _s. "Because guys like girls who know how to work a clutch."_

 _Mo grinned back, leaned over, and kissed her. "Why don't you work my clutch right here?" he asked as he unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped himself._

 _Tami gave him the hand job he wanted. It wasn't the first time she'd done that to end an argument with him._

Tami wondered what might have happened if she had taken a different approach to arguments. She was always conciliating Mo in some way, a smile, a kiss, an apology, or more. What if she had allowed those fights to unravel? Would she have figured out Mo was a jerk sooner? Or maybe, if she had stood up for herself more, he would have respected her more.

Tami's mother had taught her a strict morality, but she'd never really taught Tami how to respect herself. All her mother's preaching against the slightest vice had only had the unintended effect of making Tami feel that she could never be good enough, so why bother?

"See," Eric said, smiling as she finished a problem, "that wasn't so hard."

"Why are you so good at this? Not the math. The tutoring."

"Probably because I've coached little kids," Eric said. "In Junior Pee Wee summer camps."

"Are you saying I'm like a little kid?"

"No, but if you can manage to coach a rambunctious, annoying little kid without drop kicking him, then you can teach anyone. And that's what Laura's little brother is - rambunctious and annoying. She asked me to help with his camp. I've done it for two summers now."

"Laura? That's your girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

Tami couldn't really put a face on her. She hadn't known very many seniors when she was a sophomore, other than those in the drama crowd, where she'd hung out at the time. She'd been struggling to find her niche before she'd joined the football entourage. She still wasn't sure she'd found it - the pretty, popular girl, uninterested in academics, Homecoming Queen, girlfriend of the most outgoing guy in school, half of the cutest couple. She wasn't half of those things anymore.

Being popular had once meant a great deal to her, especially since she hade been made fun of for her poverty in early 9th grade, before she made enough waitressing to buy her own clothes. She'd quickly learned to make the most of her naturally good looks and to find the best deals on the hottest brands, sometimes at secondhand stores. She'd learned to smile and to charm both girls and boys, but especially boys. Becoming junior prom queen and senior homecoming queen? It was like pulling herself up by her bootstraps. But high school was almost over. What did any of it matter now?

"Was Laura a cheerleader?" Tami asked. Eric had been moved up to varsity his sophomore year, a year before Mo. "Or a rally girl?"

"No."

"Then how did you two get to know each other?" They couldn't have shared a class, not with that age difference. "Did you meet at work?

"We met at our church youth group."

Tami laughed. When she saw his irritated expression, she said, "Oh. You're serious."

Tami never participated in her church youth group, despite her mother's constant insistence that it would be "good for her soul" and expose her to "the right peer group." She couldn't stand the youth minister's efforts to be cool and "relate" to the teens. The one meeting she'd gone to when she was 14 had been a slow torture during which she was certain her eyes would become stuck in the back of her head from rolling. "You do a lot of stuff with your youth group?"

"Not anymore. Honestly, I only joined because I saw Laura in church, and I thought she was pretty, and I knew she was involved in the group." Well at least he was a typical guy in some way. Tami knew how to get a handle on a typical guy. "I don't even go to church much anymore. My dad works a lot of Sunday mornings. I only go when he goes, which is maybe once a month."

Tami's mom insisted they go to church every week without fail. Her mother and Shelley went on Wednesday nights too, but Tami got out of that mid-week obligation because she worked the evening shift. Her mother hadn't always been so strictly religious, but, after Dad died, Tami guessed she had to cling to something. The church had helped over the years, too, with random drop offs of free food Mom swallowed her pride to accept.

"So did you sneak into Laura's sleeping bag at church camp?" Tami asked.

"Let's go to the next problem."

Tami took the hint and dropped the subject. Later, when she was packing up, Eric said, "If you and Mo are looking for a good movie to go see this weekend, _Good Morning, Vietnam_ was hilarious. My dad and I went to see the 10 o'clock show last night when I got off work from the Whattaburger."

Tami couldn't imagine her mother _ever_ accompanying her to an R-rated movie, or letting her stay out past midnight on a school night. Not that movies were in the family budget anyway. "Mo and I broke up over winter break." She zipped up her backpack violently.

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"I don't know how you couldn't have. Isn't it all over school by now? Isn't he making out with his new girl by the lockers every day?"

"My locker's in the upstairs hallway. And Mo and I don't really hang when it's not football season."

"You don't really hang when it _is_ football season," Tami observed. "You hardly ever go to the parties."

Maybe Eric had his freshman and sophomore year, but Tami had been hanging with the drama crowd back then. It wasn't until the summer before her junior year, when she'd flirted with Mo at the community pool, that she'd been drawn into the football world. By then, Eric's girlfriend had already graduated, and he had one foot in the college world. She wondered if he went to frat parties with her and how much he drank.

"I'm sure you know," Tami said, "that Mo was cheating on me. He's probably been banging her since football season. He probably bragged about it in the locker room."

Eric didn't say anything. He looked down at the table.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. I guess everyone knew before I did."

"Well," Eric said, still looking at the table, "Mo's an idiot. I don't know why he'd cheat with her when he had you."

"Probably because she puts out and I didn't."

Eric's head shot up, and he had such a shocked expression on his face, that Tami figured Mo had been telling tall tales in the locker room about their sex life.

Tami wasn't a virgin. She'd lost her virginity her sophomore year, to an older boy she'd had a crush on for almost a year. Her freshman year, he'd been the romantic lead in the high school play, and she had admired him from a distance in her minor role. But he'd flirted with her at her first drama party, which she'd snuck out her bedroom window to attend. It was also the first time she'd had alcohol.

Tami had been a little buzzed and a little brazen. They'd made out in a corner of a kitchen, and then he'd invited her upstairs to one of the bedrooms. She didn't want to seem too young, too uncool to him, so she'd agreed. She hadn't _meant_ to go all the way, but he'd told her how beautiful she was, and how he'd had a crush on her all year long too, and how she was way cooler than all the other girls he'd met, and how much he wanted to be with her and only her. She'd been so horny, too, and so curious, with all those young teenage hormones in full swing.

The following Monday, she'd come up to him at his locker in the hallway, and smiled and said, "Hi!" He'd shut his locker and walked away, like she wasn't even there. She'd followed him down the hallway, saying, "Paul, hey, I said, hi." He turned around and held up his hands, as if to put some distance between him. "Hey, listen, Saturday night was fun. You're a fun girl. But you're a sophomore. I only date seniors." And then he'd turned and walked away.

That experience had burned her. She'd decided she'd been a fool and that she wasn't giving it up again, not until she was _engaged_ to someone. She'd eventually gone as far as giving Mo the occasional blowjob, but only after they'd already been dating several months. Until the end, she had refused to go all the way with him. Maybe she shouldn't have guarded that one small part of herself. Maybe Mo never would have cheated on her. Or maybe guarding it was the best decision she had ever made. She'd given him her heart to break, but at least she'd kept something of herself.

"What did Mo say about me in the locker room?" Tami asked.

"I…uh…." Eric shook his head, "I don't know. I don't listen to all that."

Like hell he didn't. "I have a test on Monday," she said, wanting to be off the subject of Mo. "Any chance you can help me out this weekend, an extra session? I know it only counts for the volunteer hours if you do it through the peer program, but I'll pay you for your time."

"I'll be at UNT," he said.

"Oh, yeah. I guess you go see Laura every weekend."

"Pretty much," he said.

She sighed. "I can't fail this test."

"I'll be back Sunday evening. If you meet me at my house at 8 PM, I'll tutor you for an hour."

Good thing she'd switched her Sunday evening shift to Friday. "Where do you live?"

He wrote his address on a sheet of paper.


	9. Thursday, January 7

**[Thursday, January 7]**

"You're going to his house?" Sarah asked.

Tami glanced two cafeteria tables over to where Eric was laughing at something Joey said. "For tutoring. The library is closed on Sunday evening."

"What does he smell like?" Sarah asked.

"What?"

"Eric Taylor? What does he smell like? Every girl wants to know. You're up close at the tutoring table. So tell me."

Tami wasn't sure if Sarah was serious or teasing her because she thought Tami had a crush on Eric, which she didn't. Sure, she thought he was attractive, but only because he was. And he could be funny. And he was a good tutor. But it Was not as if she actually had a crush on him. "I don't try to smell Eric. He has a girlfriend. And be quiet. He's headed this way."

Eric came and stood directly next to Tami. He put a hand on the table, leaned down, and said, "Mind if I borrow this spoon? It doesn't look like you got anything you need it for. I got the chili."

"Sure," Tami said, and tried not to notice how tightly his shirt fit around his biceps.

"Thanks, he said, grabbing the spoon, "y'all have a nice lunch."

When he was gone, Tami said, "He smells like the school soap. I guess he washes his hands really well."

Sarah frowned. "That's boring."

"What does Joey smell like?" Tami thought Sarah needed a big push in that direction.

"Old Spice. And I actually don't hate Old Spice."

Tami's father used to wear Old Spice. When she was little, she used to crawl in his lap, kiss his cheek, and breathe in deep. "You smell like Christmas cider on the stove," she'd tell him, and he'd say, "Peanut, do you know that you're the apple of your daddy's eye?" and she'd say, "Of course I do!"

Tami wondered how different her life might have been if her father had lived. They weren't well off by any means when he was alive, but they were always secure. As long as he was alive, Tami and Shelley were never concerned about whether the electricity would be shut off or where their next meal was coming from or if they were safe from the evils of the world or if they were valuable, truly valuable.

Eric's deep laugh burst out and floated to their table. Tami glanced at him. Why didn't they have a senior superlative for sexiest laugh?

[*]

After school and before her shift at Chili's, Tami went to see the guidance counselor. She thanked Mrs. Mason for matching her with a good peer tutor. "At first I thought, oh no, a jock," she told Mrs. Mason from where she sat in the cloth chair across from her desk, "but he's actually a really good tutor. I think he might actually help me pass. How did you know he would be able to help me?"

"He helped a boy last quarter who was really struggling with Geometry. The kid was smart but completely unfocused. He said Eric made him do push ups between every problem." Mrs. Mason laughed. "I don't know, but it worked."

"Did you hope he'd make me do push-ups?" Tami asked. She couldn't imagine that making her want to do anything but quit.

"No, but he helped another kid too, the quarter before, with Algebra I, a really shy kid, who was afraid of her own shadow. I was afraid she wouldn't even talk to a tutor, but he was very soft spoken with her. So, between those two - I figured whatever you needed, he'd figure it out."

"Wait, this is his _third_ quarter peer tutoring?" Tami asked. "Shouldn't he be done with all of his volunteer hours by now?"

"At first he volunteered to knock out his community service hours, but then he decided he liked it."

 _Well I'll be damned_ , Tami thought. _The liar._ He **_was_** doing it out of the goodness of his own heart.

"How are you doing in your other subjects?" Mrs. Mason asked. "Working on pulling your grades up there?"

"Yeah, but I can study for those on my own. It's only the Algebra I need help with."

"I'm glad you've decided to focus, Tami. You're a smart girl, even if you 've played the dumb, pretty girl for years. You could go places in life. You should consider applying to college. A lot of them have April 15 deadlines."

"With my G.P.A.?" she laughed.

Mrs. Mason had been working on Tami for a year, trying to persuade her to take school, and herself, more seriously. Tami saw her sessions with Mrs. Mason as a chance to escape study hall where she was more often daydreaming than studying. During their time together, though, they'd talked some about her memories of her dad and her interests (besides boys and dances - she talked about the books she read for pleasure and how she liked photography but couldn't afford a quality camera), and Mrs. Mason had hinted, more than once, that Mo might not be the best match for her. "Are you getting everything you want out of that relationship?" Mrs. Mason had asked.

Tami hadn't known how to answer that. Tami thought Mo was a decent kisser. She was popular as his girlfriend. He took her places and bought her things and they had fun. What more was there? "What am I supposed to want out of a relationship?" she'd asked.

"Your best self," Mrs. Mason had told her.

"Tami," the counselor said now, "your SAT scores weren't terrible."

"Yes they were. I got 400 on the math."

"But you got 600 on the verbal. I'm not suggesting a top tier or even a second tier school, but - "

"Mrs. Mason, I appreciate your concern, I do, but even if I could get in, there's no way I can afford college. I need to think about finding a job straight out of high school."

"Tami, there are work study programs, or you could live at home, work, and go part time to Tyler community for two years and then transfer, or - "

"- Or I could be realistic and be glad if I manage to earn my high school diploma."

"Well that's a great first step, Tami, and I'll be proud of you when you do that ," - it wasn't lost on Tami that she had said when instead of if - "but I want you to know you can do more than that if you put your mind to it. And I'm here to help if you decide to. I'm proud of your new found work ethic. I see you already got your community service hours done last quarter and turned those in. Well done."

Tami has been ashamed of her manipulation of Tom after he'd signed off on the sheet, but she'd buried the feeling. Eric's comment on Monday had stirred the guilt to the surface again, and now Mrs. Mason was throwing miracle grow on it. "Yeah...uh...thanks," Tami said, and stood. "I really have to get to work."


	10. Saturday, January 9

**[Saturday, January 9]**

When Tami walked into the volunteer office at the nursing home, Tom looked up from the form he was typing on the electric typewriter and blushed. He stood nervously. "Hey, Tami," he stuttered. "Was there something wrong with the volunteer sheet I signed? You need to make a change? Because I will."

"No, Tom, I need to apologize for manipulating you like that."

He coughed. "I don't know if you can call it manipulation." He smiled. "I really liked kissing you."

Tami, with the help of Mrs. Mason, was learning to occasionally examine herself. Usually too far after the fact. And she thought now that getting her volunteer hours was not the only reason she had offered to make-out with Tom. In the wake of Mo's betrayal, she had needed to reassure herself that someone desired her, and she knew Tom did. But it wasn't the same as being desired by someone you desired in return.

Tami said, "You're not a bad kisser, really," he wasn't a good kisser either, but no reason to mention that - "I just never kissed a guy I wasn't attracted to before, and the truth is, I'm just not attracted to you, and I'm afraid I don't think that's going to change. You're a sweet guy, Tom, and you've always been nice to me. I don't feel bad about kissing you. I feel bad about the part where I asked you to lie, where I asked you to compromise your ethics for me."

"But I wanted to help you, Tami."

"I appreciate that. But helping me to cheat isn't really helping me." Not like, say, tutoring her, which was helping her to improve herself. "And you're going to find a better girl than me one day, a better girl for you. You're a smart guy. I'm sure you'll be successful."

He sighed. "I've heard this speech before. I know you don't like me that way. I've known that forever. But it was nice, kissing you. Thanks for letting me have that. I'm just sorry I blabbed. That made you look bad."

"Because what I did was bad." For a minute, she heard her mother's voice saying that and winced. To her mom, making out with anyone who wasn't a serious boyfriend would be bad, regardless of the motivation, and even with a serious boyfriend, it was iffy and had its limits. Mom had been dating their pastor for weeks now. She probably hadn't done more than kissed him goodnight.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you had some work for me to do?" She had a lot of homework this weekend - she was supposed to finish Pride and Prejudice by Monday, but she had only read six chapters over winter break because she had been working, fooling around with Mo the first half of break, and weeping over his infidelity the second half. Then she'd been concentrating on algebra when school restarted. But she would just have to stay up late to finish the novel tonight. "I want to start earning those hours you already signed off on."

She ended up putting in five hours at the nursing home that Saturday. She delivered meals, called Bingo, and then she was able to kill two birds with one stone by reading aloud the rest of Pride and Prejudice to Mrs. Hernandez, who had dementia. "She loves being read to," Tom told her. "The sound of a soft voice soothes her. It doesn't seem like you're getting through, but, on some level you are. And It will keep her from moaning." The woman would groan loudly on and off, at random times. "Just be warned," Tom told her, "she says weird things sometimes."

So Tami read to Mrs. Hernandez as she sat there in her wheelchair, not moaning, but nodding.

Tami liked the Mr. Darcy character in Pride and Prejudice lot. For some reason, he reminded her of Eric - someone she had assumed to be arrogant at first, the popular jock who was born with a silver football in his hands, so to speak, when maybe he was really a pretty decent guy at heart. She was starting to believe Eric probably didn't have a sidepiece after all. Laura was a lucky girl, Tami thought. It must be nice to have a guy value you enough to stay faithful for that long.

Then again, maybe it wasn't luck. Maybe Tami just wasn't worth staying faithful for. "I'm no Elizabeth Bennett, after all," she told Mrs. Hernandez, who she knew would not remember, if she was even processing anything Tami said at all. "Although I do have the boy-crazy younger sister, and the poor sense to be temporarily duped by a rakish Wickham type, and some boys have told me I have fine eyes - they say pretty, not fine - though not as fine as Eric's. And why do I keep thinking of him? He has a girlfriend. Besides, I'm done with football players. Too many groupies. Too much temptation."

"My husband played football," Mrs. Hernandez told her. "Or was that my son?" She leaned forward in her wheelchair and patted Tami's knee. "No, it was my husband. Dearie, he was fantastic in the sack. Is your football player fantastic in the sack?"

"I don't have a football player, ma'am," Tami said, trying not to laugh.

"Then get yourself one," the woman said. "But only one who will go down on you. The one's who don't volunteer to go down on you, dearie, are no good."

Mo had never volunteered to do that, and she'd never felt comfortable asking. Tami had come to think of oral sex as something a girl did for a guy, and not vice versa, and it wasn't her favorite part of fooling around. She much preferred when they just touched each other. She liked giving Mo pleasure, but she'd also felt a little pressured to "get to oral," and maybe a little used. And her first time, she wasn't even sure if she was doing it right, though if she wasn't, he didn't seem to mind.

"Best orgasm you'll ever have, dearie."

This time Tami had to cover her mouth to hide the laugh.

Maybe volunteering at the nursing center wasn't going to be so boring after all.


	11. Sunday, January 10

**[Sunday, January 10]**

When Tami pulled up to the address Eric had given her, the porch light was on, but there were no cars parked on the curb nearby. The house had no driveway. She knocked, and no one answered. She was getting ready to knock again when she heard a truck door slam and a deep voice curse, "Fucking incompetent goddamn morons! Can't trust hired help! Got to do everything my own goddamn self! Got to go out on Sunday evening and fix what they fuck up!"

Mr. Taylor was halfway across the lawn before he noticed her standing there. He held a heavy tool belt in one hand and wore a thick, red flannel shirt and blue jeans. He closed the remaining distance apologizing. "So sorry, young lady, I wasn't aware a lady was present, I apologize for my language." He came to a stop by the stoop. "May I help you?"

"I…Eric was supposed to tutor me tonight. At 8."

Mr. Taylor glanced at his watch. He was a muscular man, not quite as lean as Eric, with the slightest beer gut, but still in obviously good shape for a man in his late thirties. He sported thick, unruly hair a shade darker than Eric's, and similar hazel eyes, but with a more bluish tint to them. He was a good two inches taller than his son. "Well, maybe he ran into traffic. Come on in." He unlocked what she had thought was the front door, but it opened directly into the kitchen. He flicked on a light. "Have a seat," he said. She sat down awkwardly at the kitchen table, which had four chairs. She wondered what it was like for two people to eat at a four-chaired table every day. "Would you like some sweet tea?"

"No, sir. No thank you." Tami immediately thought better of her refusal. What was she going to do with herself while she waited? "I mean, yes, please. I'd love some."

"Let me just put this belt away," he said and disappeared out of the kitchen. She saw lights flick on through the open entryway. Five minutes passed, and Mr. Taylor re-entered the kitchen and poured her a glass of ice tea from the kitchen in the fridge. He handed it to her.

"I didn't know Eric was tutoring," he said. "Is that for his community service hours?"

"Yes, sir."

"Don't they know some kids work twenty, thirty hours a week?" he asked. "As if _that's_ not a contribution to society, being productive, greasing the wheels of the economy. It's all well and good to be charitable with one's time, but it shouldn't be a _requirement_ for _graduation_." He paused. "Oh, but I'm glad he's helping you. If he is. Is he? He's not messing around wasting your time to fulfill a requirement is he?"

"No, sir. He's a good tutor."

"Good. Because if he's not, you tell me, and I'll set him to rights."

"Yes, sir."

"What's he tutoring you in?"

"Algebra II."

"Never took it. Didn't have to when I was going through. Guess maybe I use it anyway though, when I'm laying carpet. I can look at a room, throw out a tape measure, and do it all in my head. Didn't take some fancy book to teach me that. I learned by doing."

The door opened and Eric walked in. His hair was disheveled and he looked a little strange. He seemed a bit unsteady on his feet.

"Son," Mr. Taylor said, "you don't _ever_ leave a lady waiting. That's just plain rude."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"On time is late, Eric. You weren't even on time."

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry. Sorry, Tami."

Mr. Taylor cocked his head to the side and studied his son. "Why are your eyes bloodshot? Are you high?"

"No, sir!"

"Why are your eyes bloodshot, then?"

Tami wished she could melt away into the walls.

"Allergies, I guess."

"Allergies, you guess," Mr. Taylor repeated. "Spring allergies, you guess, in January. Say your ABC's backwards. Go on."

"Dad, I can't do that sober. Neither can you."

"Fine. Do a round off for me and I'll believe you're not high."

"Dad, it was only the one summer. I quit! I haven't touched it since!"

"Then you should be able to do a round off just fine."

"In the kitchen?"

"There's room," Mr. Taylor insisted, motioning to the open tile from the door to the open entry way to the rest of the house and stepping aside behind the counter.

"Fine," Eric said. He took off his coat and draped it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He kicked off his shoes and left them under the kitchen desk. And then, right there in the kitchen, on the tile floor, he did a round off.

"You're definitely not high," his father told him. "Stick the landing better next time, though, son. You're getting rusty." Eric shook his head, and Mr. Taylor walked off through the entry way, saying, "I'll be in my study if y'all need me."

"He has a study?" Tami asked.

Eric leaned against the counter. "It's a small alcove off his bedroom. It has a little desk and a typewriter and a file cabinet for his handy man business. One small book case. I don't know why he calls it his _study_. Thinks it makes him sound professional, I guess."

"How do you know how to do a round off?" she asked.

"I took boys' gymnastics for four years when I was younger. My dad thought it would be good preparation for football. Said it would build strength and agility."

"So why aren't you on the Boys' Gymnastics team too? That season doesn't conflict with football season, does it?"

Two guys were on both the football and baseball team, and a third was on both the basketball team and the football team. There was a tiny overlap between seasons when it came to training, but they made do. It seemed everyone in large Texas high schools tried to play at least one sport, sooner or later. Even Tami's friend Sarah, nerd though she was, had attempted one season of field hockey, where she warmed the bench. Tami had played volleyball her sophomore year, and she'd been so good she'd been moved up to varsity halfway through the season. She'd quit after one season, however, over the protests of the coach. Volleyball took away too much time from work, and between work, volleyball, drama, and her heartbreak over Paul and her lost virginity, she'd only managed a 1.7 GPA that year. Tami didn't know why she had once let academics take a backseat to every thing else in her life. Her father had cared about them enough to offer her small rewards for every A and B she earned in elementary school. Her mother should have cared more, given her own lot in life, but all she seemed to care about was church attendance and good behavior. "Is it too _uncool_?"

"I'm not good enough," he said. "I don't have the right body type anymore. It was fine when I was little, but I can't haul my weight around on the bars or the rings anymore. I haven't been able to for years." Eric jerked open the fridge, pulled out a beer, and opened it. He sat down across from Tami and sighed. He took a swig.

"Won't your dad be mad if he catches you drinking his beer?"

"It's _our_ beer. He doesn't care. It's legal in your own house, if your parents consent. Drinking age was 18 until a few years ago anyway. I just turned eighteen last week."

So Eric was a couple of months younger than her. "But he minds if you get high?"

"Yeah. Thinks it'll fry my brain and mess with my ability to play. And he's probably right. I was not productive that summer after my freshman year when I was doing pot."

"Where did you get it?"

"This girl I worked with at the Whattaburger. She was a junior. Different high school. My dad made me stop dating her when he found out." Tami wasn't aware Eric had dated anyone before Laura, but why wouldn't he have? For all she knew he'd dated a dozen girls his freshman year. She hadn't paid attention to the football players back then. "Well, not really. He said I could keep seeing her but only at our house and only when he was home. She didn't like that. She dumped me quick."

"Probably for the best though. That way you ended up with Laura."

He slammed his beer bottle down on the table. "Or not."

She looked him in the eyes. His dad was right. They were bloodshot. And they weren't bloodshot from allergies. He'd been _crying_. "Are you all right? Have you been crying?"

"Sure," he said, "because I'm an immature baby, and that's what babies do, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Right as I'm leaving UNT," he says, "right there in the parking lot, right after she kisses me goodbye, Laura says, I think we should see other people. It's a big age difference. I love you, Eric, but I want to see more mature guys too."

"Too?" Tami asked. "In addition to?"

"Yeah. She still thinks I'm pretty good in the sack, so…" He shrugged. He picked up his beer and swigged it. "I gave her a promise ring last Valentine's Day. She took it. And when she says this, she doesn't even give it back. That thing cost me $95. I think if you keep a $95 promise ring, you should keep the promise. I held it together the first hour of the drive home," he said. He swallowed more beer. "Listen, please don't tell anyone that I cried. I don't know why I told you all this stuff."

"I cried when Mo cheated on me."

"I don't know if you can call this cheating. I don't know that she's done anything yet. But she's breaking off the steady relationship and offering me a nonexclusive one. She still wants to see me."

"Do _you_ still want to see _her_?"

He put his beer down on the table. "Get out your book. Let's do this. I know you have a test on Monday."

Eric was distracted at first, but soon enough he seemed to get into the tutoring. A few minutes into the session, the kitchen phone rang. Eric answered it, put it down on the kitchen desk, and went to get his father.

As Eric settled back into the kitchen chair and began checking Tami's work on the last problem, Mr. Taylor picked up the phone. For a while, the man only listened. Then he chuckled, lowly. "So you're in need of my services?" he asked. Tami didn't think he sounded like he was talking to a customer, not in that amused, low voice. "I think I can make time for that," he said. There was a pause. "Oh, yes, I'm very handy with that tool." Pause. He chuckled again. "Okay, then. I'll be there in five minutes." He hung up the phone, grabbed his truck keys from the kitchen desk, and said to Eric, "I have to run out for about an hour and a half. There's a customer who needs some emergency repairs."

"A'ight," Eric said.

When the door was shut, Tami laughed. "Your dad is totally getting laid tonight."

Eric looked up from the page. "What?"

"Your dad. He's going out to _service_ some woman."

"He's working."

"Really?" Tami asked. "Then why didn't he take his tool belt?"

"It's probably in the truck."

"It's not in the truck. I saw him bring it in."

"Okay, fine, he's getting laid. Any reason I need to think about that?"

Tami shook her head. "I just think it's funny."

Eric resumed tutoring her. They ran twenty minutes over the hour.

When she'd finished packing up her books, he was looking at her. Not casually. He was looking at her as if he was noticing how pretty she was. And, truth be told, she had chosen her outfit carefully tonight. She'd gone for the tight jeans, the ones that were acid washed and ripped just the perfect amount in the knee, and a low cut shirt that she'd revealed when she shed her cardigan after Eric's dad left.

"So," she said, smiling a little at his attention, "we never did discuss your hourly fee. Since you don't get peer tutoring credit outside the library...What do you want me to pay you for this extra session?"

"Five minutes," he said.

"What?"

"Five minutes of making out."

Like she'd paid Tom for signing off on the volunteer hours? Tami was simultaneously offended and excited. It was not a very Mr. Darcy like suggestion of Eric. But she was, as much as she hated to admit it, attracted to him. How many rally girls and cheerleaders had talked about taking their turn at Eric, and never had the chance, because he really was keeping a promise? "You really want to make out with me?" she asked.

"Laura's probably making out with some guy right now," he said bitterly. "She's probably in his bed."

"Well I'm not interested in being your revenge. And I'm doing those community service hours after all. I worked at the nursing home five hours yesterday. It was wrong of me to ask Tom to lie. I've never cheated on a test in my life. I'm not sure why I thought that was any better."

"Good for you, going the honest route there. But you're not asking me to lie for you. This would just be the exchange of one good deed for another."

"What's your hourly charge for tutoring outside of the peer program?" Tami asked. She wanted to give him something for making this time for her on a weekend.

"$10," he said.

"That's outrageous," Tami replied. "Minimum wage is only $3.35 an hour!"

He was looking at her intensely. Those hazel eyes had grown thrillingly dark. She wondered if he was a good kisser. She wondered what his fingertips would feel like on her cheek.

"Tutoring is not minimum wage work," he said. "I know tutors who charge $15 and hour."

Tami knew he wasn't serious about the hourly charge. This was just an excuse for a no-strings-attached, one-time make out session. Eric had probably sensed her attraction to him and, after the blow he had just received, now wanted to reassure himself he was still desirable. She knew precisely what that felt like. She didn't blame him for the need. But she said, "I'm not for sale."

"Of course not. But maybe you'll consider volunteering. Volunteering can be very fulfilling, as I'm sure you're learning at the nursing home."

She knew it wasn't smart to make out with a guy who was probably using her to feel better about himself, but the truth was that she wanted to. Sometimes "want to" still overcame "ought to" for Tami. "Fine, I'll make out with you, but only if you swear, absolutely swear, not to tell _anyone_."

"I swear. And I'm a man of my word."

Somehow, she believed that. "Making out means kissing, right?" she clarified.

"And maybe some touching."

"No touching," she insisted.

"I can't kiss you without touching you," he said.

"I mean….you can touch my back and shoulders and arms and face. No chest. Nothing below the waist."

"Can I kiss anything above the chest?" he asked.

She felt suddenly flush, thinking about those lips on her neck, on her ears…

They were really about to do this. She was really about to make out with this gorgeous, muscular, confident, quarterback. And why not? Didn't she deserve a little fun, just like Mo? She wondered if it would make Mo jealous, to know she was making out with a better athlete than him. Not that Mo would find out, if Eric kept his word.

What was she thinking? This was just the kind of casual interaction her mother constantly warned her against. Of course, she'd gone steady with Mo, taken it slow, and what had that gotten her in the end? Betrayed. It was just making out, she assured herself. She wasn't going to have sex with Eric. She wasn't going to _date_ him. She wasn't going to trust him with her heart or anything ridiculous like that. "Okay," she said.

"Let's go to the living room," he said.

They settled on the living room couch. Eric turned to face her. She felt a nervous jolt of excitement when she looked at his lips. She instinctively licked her own. He raised his hand and turned his wrist toward himself. He set his stop watch. "Ready?" he asked.

She was tingling a little. This was stupid. Why had she agreed to this?

"Set," he said, and let his finger hover over the button. He looked her straight in the eyes with those unnerving hazels. "Go." He pushed the button.

Eric Taylor was not a good kisser.

He was a _fantastic_ kisser.

His lips were soft and supple and all over her lips, face, and ears. He ran his fingers through her hair, seized it, and tugged her head back to expose her neck. He assaulted it with nips and sucks and licks and kisses and she could feel a tingling spreading all over her body.

He trailed his lips down and to the right and came dangerously close to her cleavage, though he did not dip down into it. He worked his way around to her right ear and nibbled her ear lobe. She didn't mean to, but she let a whimper escape. He suckled the lobe and then thrust his tongue in her ear. There was something starkly sexual about it, almost more sexual than when Mo had first put a hand down her pants.

Had she just moaned? Had she really? If she had, he silenced the sound when he crushed her lips with his.

Eric pulled an inch away. His breath was hot on her face. "Open, Tami," he ordered. "Open your mouth."

He was hungry, or just angry about Laura, she didn't know, but it was thrilling, his tongue in her mouth, thrashing hers, his hands on her back now, running up and down her spine. He was pushing her back against the arm of the couch, his chest pressed to her chest. In a second their hips would connect.

The watch beeped.

Eric pulled back. He pressed the stop button. He was breathing heavily. So was Tami. She swallowed twice and worked to catch her breath. He lay his head on the back of the couch, and sat there, looking up at the ceiling, just breathing. She glanced down at his lap. He was hard. She looked away, across the living room, to the 16" television on a cart. Next to it was a table that had a bottle of scotch and two glasses. Tami's mother, if she drank (which she didn't), would never have left hard liquor just sitting there where she could get it.

Tami felt suddenly embarrassed. She'd liked it. He'd liked it. No denying that. But he'd only wanted to do it because he was angry at Laura. Not because he liked Tami herself. Well, she supposed he liked her in a physical sense, if his reaction to their make-out session was any indication. But he probably had little to no interest in an actual relationship with her.

Tami stood from the couch. "I have to go," she said. "I'll see you Monday at the library."

"Uh-huh." He still had his head back against the couch. His eyes were closed. The erection that strained against his jeans looked positively painful.

She let herself out.

As she was walking to her car, Mr. Taylor's truck pulled up. The engine died. His door flew open, and he stepped out, whistling. He shut the door and walked toward her. "Gorgeous night isn't it, Ms – " He paused. "I'm sorry. How very rude of me. I never did ask your name."

"Tami Hayes," she answered.

"Beautiful night, isn't it, Ms. Hayes?"

She looked up at the clear Texas sky. The stars coated the sky. "I guess it is," she said.

"Did my son instruct you well?"

She laughed, looked down from the sky, and felt her face flush red. She hoped it was too dark for Mr. Taylor to notice. "Yes," she said. "Eric's a good…instructor."

"Good. Goodnight then, Ms. Hayes."

"Goodnight." She walked toward her car. He walked toward the house, whistling all the way.


	12. Monday, January 11

_**A/N: Chapter lengths will continue to vary quite a bit as I am dividing them into days in keeping with the story timeline. Some days are more eventful than others.**_ _ **Please review.**_

 **[Monday, January 11]**

Between her second period Algebra II class and her third period English class, Tami switched out books at her locker. She closed the door, turned, and nearly leapt into the air.

Eric was standing there, his shoulder against the neighboring locker. She hadn't planned to try to approach him today outside of peer tutoring. She certainly hadn't expected him to seek her out.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she replied and busied herself with putting her book in her bag because she wasn't sure how to act.

"How'd it go? Your Algebra II test this morning?"

Did he actually care about her success? Was he flirting? Was he asking as a tutor or as a friend or as a guy who had decided she would make a nice notch on his belt? She didn't think he racked up conquests, but who knew? He'd wanted to make out with her, after all, no strings attached. Did he want to keep doing it?

 _Did she?_

When she failed to answer, he asked, "The one you just took?"

She must look like an idiot to him right now. "Oh. I feel like I passed."

"That's good, right?"

"Well, I need to get at least a C this quarter. And next."

"You will." He pushed off the locker. "See you at the library this afternoon."

She turned around to walk to class and almost jumped again. This time it was Sarah in front of her. "No interest at all in Eric Taylor, huh?" she asked.

"He's just my tutor."

Sarah opened her locker, which was two down from Tami's. "Well he could tutor me anytime he likes."

[*]

At the library that afternoon, Eric didn't mention the make-out session and neither did Tami. He just talked her through the next chapter, a kind of preview of what she would be learning, so the information wouldn't seem to come at her so quickly when the teacher introduced it.

"What's your elective this semester?" Eric asked when she was struggling over a concept.

"Photography."

"Oh. I was going to try to relate the math to one of your interests. Not sure what to do with photography."

"My teacher says I have a real knack for it, but I don't have a high quality camera and I can't afford one right now."

"What kind of knack?"

"I don't know. She says I have an eye for the human. I don't even know what that means."

"You're the only pretty, popular girl I've met who doesn't put down other girls to make herself seem more important. I've never heard you gossip about other girls. And your best friend isn't even in the popular crowd. Maybe that has something to do with your eye for the human?"

"I...maybe." Tami wasn't sure what to say to that. It was clearly a compliment, but the oddest one she'd ever received. She usually got _great smile, great hair, nice ass_. "I don't think I'm that popular anymore now that I'm not with Mo anyway."

He smiled. "Nah. Now you're just more popular with the right people." He looked down at her book. "A'ight. Well, let's look at this concept from another angle..."

When Tami was packing up after her session, she said, "It's hard for me to imagine you dating a stoner." Football players and stoners didn't usually hang out together, but, Tami supposed, if he was getting easy sex, maybe he didn't care what clique that Whattaburger girl had belonged to.

"Kimberley wasn't really a stoner. She wasn't as bad an influence as my dad thought. I was the one who asked her for the pot. She told me her older brother dealt it to put himself through college. I was stressed that summer, knowing I was getting moved up to varsity in the fall. All those expectations. All that pressure, and I wasn't even quite a sophomore yet. I know it was stupid, but it helped me relax. Too much. I think maybe I need a certain level of stress. I thrive on it."

When Mo needed to relax before a game, he always asked Tami for a handjob or a blow job - the first earlier in their relationship, the second later, when it had finally moved that far. She wondered - didn't that work for Eric? Surely he and Kimberley were having sex? After all, Mo had made it sound like Tami was the only high school girlfriend in the world who didn't give blow jobs, and then, when she finally began to comply with that request, the only one who didn't put out all the way. In retrospect, she saw how guilty she'd let Mo make her feel for trying to take things slowly. He hadn't broken up with her, she had to give him that much credit...but when had he actually started cheating? How early on? Was there anyone before his rally girl? She shuddered to speculate. Why had Mo stayed with her for so long? Told her he loved her so often? _Had_ he ever really loved her? Or had she always been merely a nice ornament? She didn't know what to believe about her own past anymore.

"Did you really like your Whattaburger girl?" Tami asked. Eric sure did seem to like older girls. She wondered if he preferred them because they were more sexually experienced, or simply because he was more mature than other guys his age.

"Kimberley? I liked her well enough. I don't guess I was in love with her. I wasn't that upset when she dumped me. We were sort of from different worlds, except for work. But she was my first girlfriend. I was just glad to have a girlfriend."

"Were you mad at your dad when she broke up with you?"

"Yeah, until I noticed Laura at church. Well, until Laura noticed me back, anyway."

"Are you going to see her this weekend?" Tami asked.

"Kimberley hasn't worked at Whattaburger for over two years. We didn't stay friends. We only dated for six months."

"I meant Laura, of course." Tami didn't know why it bothered her so much, the idea of him seeing his own girlfriend. It was not as if Tami was his girlfriend. He was dating Laura, with explicit permission to screw around with as many other girls as he wanted. Most guys would be ecstatic. He'd cried about it. He must have actually loved Laura and imagined himself loved by her, the way Tami had loved Mo and almost imagined a future together.

"It is a three-day weekend," he said. It was Martin Luther King, Jr. day next Monday. It had just been declared a federal holiday five years ago. There was some controversy at the time, especially since it fell so close to the Texas state holiday Confederate Heroes Day. "And I will get laid if I go, so…" He shrugged. He glanced at her, as if gauging her reaction.

"Well, I guess a guy can't turn down easy sex," she said.

"I think it's actually more enjoyable when you have to work for it." He stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "See you Wednesday."


	13. Wednesday, January 13

**[Wednesday, January 13]**

Thanks to Nancy Reagan, Tami was filing into the school auditorium for yet another "Just Say No" assembly. The football players, who occasionally dabbled in pot or took steroids, had nothing on the drama crowd. Tami had seen kids getting high on LSD at the drama parties her sophomore year, but she wasn't fool enough to go anywhere near that. Apparently these assemblies hadn't done any good for Eric, however, since he'd toked that one summer. The short-lived nature of his experiment with pot probably had more to do with getting caught by his dad than with Nancy Reagan's efforts, however. His dad seemed like a bit of a hard ass, but possibly an affectionate hard ass.

Tami wondered if her own father had lived, if Mo would have cheated on her, or would Dad have invited him into the living room before that first date, where he would be cleaning his shot gun after duck hunting, and have said, "If you ever hurt my daughter..." Tami didn't know, but she was pretty sure that if Dad had lived, she never would have lost her virginity to that drama asshole Paul. She would have been afraid to disappoint her father by sneaking out of the house and drinking. And maybe, if her dad were around to keep praising her, she wouldn't have so strongly felt the need for Paul's worthless approval.

Tami's father had once made her feel like she deserved a prince and a kingdom, not a one-night stand in some stranger's bedroom at a party. Mom, on the other hand, had in recent years made Tami feel like she was dirty, like her every natural teenage sexual urge was perverted. Mom loved her, she knew, and Mom had worked hard to support them, but the scolding and the moralizing sometimes wore Tami down. When she was 15, she had thought, if everything I do is a sin, even my thoughts, well, I might as well sin big. And she supposed she had. She wished she could take back that night with Paul, but she couldn't. She was less certain she would take back her time with Mo. She'd loved him, after all, as much as she knew how to love anyone, and she'd had fun with him. She'd felt accepted by her peers, and she'd learned something about relationships.

Tami settled into the last seat in her class's row, by the aisle. She hated these assemblies, but she hated Mr. Harrington's boring Government lectures even more. That was one class she actually had a solid B in, and that was without ever cracking open a book. She watched the news, thank you very much. Besides, Dad had been surprisingly interested in politics for a working man. When she was nine, he'd read her the Constitution as if it were a bedtime story.

Tami didn't have any friends in this class, so no one was talking to her at the moment. Joey was in the seat directly in front of her, and next to him was Eric. It surprised Tami to find them in the same class, since Eric didn't take any AP classes, but when she glanced down the row toward the teacher, she realized it was an elective class. Mr. Burns taught Public Speaking. She forgot Eric had two electives this semester, since he'd already fulfilled his math requirement and wasn't taking Pre-calculus.

Tami thought of poking Eric on the shoulder and saying hi but decided not to. She didn't want him to think she had some kind of _serious crush_ on him. Because she didn't. She really didn't. Sure, she had enjoyed making out with him, but it wasn't as if she _really_ liked him.

"That's a bitch," Joey said. "So is Laura actually seeing someone else already?"

"She's got to be," Eric answered. "

"But she said you could _still_ come up there on weekends and boink her?"

"Boink her? Uh yeah, if that's what you want to call it." Eric sighed. "I guess I should have seen this coming. Laura's been sort of...pulling away...for awhile now." He shook his head. "I just can't believe this is the same virginal girl I met at church who wouldn't let me past second base for six months."

Tami was surprised by that revelation. She assumed Eric and Laura were on third base by date three. That was when Mo had expected to be, which had set off a long chain of polite refusals and gradual, partial accommodations.

"She's probably _not_ the same girl," Joey said. "College changes people. But think of it this way – now you can have sex with her without spending any date money on her." Joey sang, "You've got to accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative, and don't – "

"- Stop. Just stop."

"Man, I know you're upset. I know you two were steady for a long time. But look on the bright side. You've got an opportunity for easy sex on Saturdays _and_ you're tutoring a babe Monday, Wednesday, _and_ Sunday. Cheer up."

Tami wondered just how much Eric had told Joey about their Sunday session, despite his promise not to say a word to anyone.

"Tami _is_ hot," Eric agreed.

"She's bombdigity!"

"Bombdigity?" Eric laughed. "You sound like a valley girl, man, not a linebacker."

"Sorry to defy your stereotypes, my brother." He slapped Eric on the shoulder. "Hey, you know Tami broke up with Mo over two weeks ago, right? You could easily catch her on the rebound, man. You should go for her. Just try kissing her across the tutoring table one day." So Eric _hadn't_ told him anything about the Sunday make-out session, then. "You've got plenty of time though. It's probably going to take her forever to pull her grade up."

"Nah. She's actually surprisingly smart. I just don't think she's ever _tried_."

Tami wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted. She chose to be neither.

"I see why she got on the ballot for best smile," Joey mused.

"Yeah," Eric agreed. "She has a gorgeous smile."

"See! I knew you were thinking about her," Joey declared. "I've seen the way you moon across the cafeteria at her during lunch."

"Moon? I don't _moon_. I've never _mooned_ in my life."

"Shhh!" scolded their teacher from four seats down. "No talking during the assembly!"

Eric leaned his head toward Joey. "Should we _just say no_ and talk anyway?"

"Taylor," came the teacher's voice. "That's a demerit."

Eric sighed, straightened up, and didn't say anything more for the rest of the assembly.

 **[FNL]**

During their hour at the library that afternoon, Eric went over Tami's homework with her and Monday's test, on which she'd scored a 74, ten points more than the 64 she'd presented Eric with at their first session.

Once again, Eric never mentioned the Sunday make-out session. Tami decided it must have been a one time thing for him. And maybe that was for the best. Tami didn't need either a romantic or a sexual entanglement right now.

Still, she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Part of her had secretly hoped more would come from the interaction. He'd certainly seemed to enjoy it, and there was something different about him. Eric wasn't like other boys. He was good-looking and athletic and admired for both qualities, but he was also not quite with the program, almost as if, at barely eighteen, he already had some idea of who he was and didn't much care what others thought of him, as long as he was accomplishing what he wanted to accomplish. Tami envied him that. She had no idea who she was anymore, if she ever had known.

"At least I didn't have to worry about Algebra class next Friday," she said, in an attempt to make conversation not directly related to tutoring, "since they're going to have the sex ed video during 2nd and 3rd period."

Every few months, ever since their freshman year, they would be excused from two of their classes, separated by sex, and forced to watch yet another sex ed video. Most of them emphasized the horrors of STDs and unwanted pregnancy.

"They ought to realize we've figured it out by now," Eric said.

"Well, maybe it's for the best. Maybe your parents should have been forced to watch all these videos when they went to school."

"Are you saying maybe I should have never been born?"

" _No._ That's not what I meant." She was surprised at how upset he sounded. She felt as though she'd poked some hidden wound. Did he feel like a burden to his father? Eric and Mr. Taylor seemed to get along well enough, if you didn't count Eric having to do round offs to prove he wasn't high. But they went to movies together. They had beer Eric called _our_ beer. Mr. Taylor was at _all_ of his games. He'd _wanted_ Eric, enough to talk his mother out of an abortion and raise him alone. "It's just, you know, some kids only get sex ed in school. Our grandparents probably never talked about it at home. Our parents barely talk about it. I mean, did your dad ever give you the sex talk?"

"Did your mom?" Eric asked.

"Her version. She said sex before marriage was a sin, and if I even touched a boy in a sexual way, I'd go to hell. She said I could date once I turned 16, but I better stick to kissing. What did your dad say?"

"The summer before I started high school, he sat me down and slapped a box of condoms on the table. He told me to keep two in my wallet at all times."

"That's a considerably different approach than my mom took."

"He said now that I was playing high school ball, there were going to be all sorts of girls offering me sexual favors. He said he understood if I didn't have the strength to resist that temptation, but that I should at least try to. I should get a steady girlfriend, he said, and have sex with only her, because it would be safer."

" _Did_ you get a lot of offers?"

"I didn't believe him," he said. "I couldn't believe that just because I was going to high school, and just because I was good at football, girls would suddenly start offering up themselves. But my first season, this rally girl put a coupon book in my locker. Said things like _good for one free car wash_ , _good for one homework assignment_." He laughed. "She was so stupid, but she was going to do my homework. All these coupons. Good for for this. Good for that. And right in the middle of the coupon book is this one coupon that says – _Good for one blowjob, anytime, anywhere._ "

Had Mo gotten offers like that from his rally girls? Had he taken them up on them? How early on had he cheated? How much of their relationship had been a lie? Was there ever a genuine moment? If he had simply dumped her for someone else, she wouldn't feel so turned around. It was the lying, and how much she had believed the lies, that made her question her world. What else might she believe, right now, that wasn't true? "So did you redeem it?"

"I was 14, and I was a bit socially awkward."

Tami had a hard time imagining that. To her, he seemed supremely confident. True, he mostly hung out with a small subset of the team, and he wasn't much involved in the party scene, but there was nothing awkward about him. He was generally well spoken of, and Tami didn't think there was a single girl in the school who would turn him down for a date.

"In junior high," he continued, "I was shy around girls, and by the end of 8th grade, I'd never done more than kiss one. I thought about sex constantly. I was horny as hell. And here was this offer. I didn't have to muster up the courage to ask her for a date. I didn't have to make conversation. I didn't have to do anything but slap down a coupon. So I did. That very day. On the cafeteria table. During lunch."

Tami felt a sudden disappointment. He was just like all the other football players in the end, wasn't he? Maybe he even thought of her the same way he thought of that rally girl.

"She told me to meet her in the supply closet. I did. She proceeds to drop right to her knees, just like that. Starts undoing my belt. And I'm as excited as hell for my first blowjob, but it occurs to me, I can't even quite remember her name. Is it Mary Beth or Mary Sue or Mary Ellen? And if she's offered this to me, some guy she's never even had a conversation with, I wonder where that mouth has been? And I start to feeling guilty and uneasy and not so aroused. And then the door opens, and it's the principal. He yells at us and tells us to get out."

"Well you've kissed me," Tami said defensively, still wondering what he thought of her. It was the first time either of them had mentioned the make-out session. "Do you wonder where _my_ mouth's been?"

"How could you even compare yourself to her? You were with Mo for a year and a half, and you didn't even go all the way with _him_."

She wondered what he would think of the way she lost her virginity at that drama party.

"You and I have had at least three actual conversations I can count," he continued, "not including this one. And as far as I _know_ ," he smiled, "you aren't offering me any blowjobs."

"Did you ever use the coupon?"

"No. But a week later when I still hadn't asked her for it, she slipped another coupon in my locker. _Good for one free cum-between-my-tits._ "

"Good Lord."

"I didn't use that one either. And I don't know how you got me talking about this. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. It's too much like kissing and telling."

"It's more like _not_ kissing and telling," she said.

He laughed. "Yeah, I guess."

"So you took your dad's advice after all? Resisted temptation? Got a steady girlfriend?"

"Yeah, Kimberley, toward the end of my freshman year. It was ...I don't know. Simple? We worked together. She liked me. She was older, so I didn't have to take the lead. I started dating Laura my sophomore year."

Eric seemed to like to take the lead now, at least he certainly had with Tami on Sunday. She was having trouble envisioning this younger, shyer Eric. "You don't like girls your own age?"

"You're my own age."

Wait. What did that mean? Was he saying he liked her? Not just that he had enjoyed making out with her one time, but that he actually _liked_ her?

He pointed to the paper. "Take a look at number 7 again. You just made a careless mistake there."

Tami looked down at the problem. The tutoring session resumed. When she was packing up, she told him, "I have another test on Tuesday."

"Geez. Does she give them every week?"

"Yep," Tami said. "She's a hard ass."

"Well, you want to come over to my house again on Sunday for an extra tutoring session? Maybe 6:30 this time?"

"Won't you still be at UNT? Three day weekend and all?"

He shrugged. "I don't really see the point of staying three whole days, if I'm not her only guy anymore." His jaw was set tight, and he looked like he'd just eaten something bitter. "If I'm just going there to get laid, might as well get laid and head home. I suppose she has more mature guys to take her to…wherever mature guys take girls." He reached for his backpack. "Better guys than me." He stood. "So, 6:30 on Sunday?"

"6:30 is fine with me," she said and watched him nod and walk away.


	14. Saturday, January 16

**[Saturday, January 16]**

Tami went to the nursing home at 8:30 AM this morning. She wanted to knock out four volunteer hours by one o'clock. She helped serve breakfast, visited with various residents, and then spent the last hour reading part of her next English assignment to Mrs. Hernandez - _Romeo and Juliet_.

The woman did nothing but nod for thirty minutes, and then said suddenly, "You know they only want to get married so they can have sex."

Tami giggled.

"If it were like modern times, Romeo and Juliet would just go ahead and have sex and break up six months later, and that would be better than double suicide."

"Maybe, but breaking up _feels_ like death sometimes," Tami said, "the death of who you thought that person was."

Tami had blinded herself to much of Mo's character and imagined him genuinely in love with her. She wondered if Eric felt the same way about Laura. How could he still see her, under those conditions, knowing she was someone else, knowing that they weren't the couple he believed them to be? How could he possibly drive up to UNT and have sex with someone he once loved, maybe still loved, knowing she was seeing other guys? It had deeply wounded Tami to break up with Mo, but it would have _killed_ her to keep seeing him while he was also seeing that cheerleader.

"And," Tami continued, "it's also like the death of the person you thought _you_ were." Who was she now, if not homecoming queen to Mo's homecoming king? Who was Tami without Mo?

"Then be reborn, dearie," Mrs. Hernandez said. "Be reborn."

 **[FNL]**

Shelley was eating potato chips at the kitchen table when Tami got home. Tami hated how her sister could eat a bag a week and never gain a pound. It was all the tumbling no doubt.

Mom couldn't afford Shelley's tumbling lessons after Dad died, but Shelley had gone from age 4 to 9. After Dad died, she'd practiced on her own, using a neighbor's trampoline, the school gyms, and the lawn. She'd made the cheerleading squad last fall, of course, her first year in high school. She'd probably be captain next year. She was just that good. Who knew, maybe she'd get a cheerleading scholarship to college. Shelley had a 3.1 GPA so far, much better than her big sister. Tami might never escape working-class life, but she had a strong hope her baby sister would.

Shelley reached into the bag for another chip. "I don't know if I should tell you this, Tam, but Mo called. I told him to fuck off when he asked me to take a message."

"Don't let Mom hear you say that word."

Shelley had become quite foul-mouthed this year. Tami supposed she was trying out the big words, trying to be cool in high school. She'd also taken to flirting with half the baseball team. Tami didn't love the changes she was seeing in her once innocent baby sister.

"Don't give him the time of day," Shelley insisted as Tami walked out of the kitchen and toward the living room phone. "That jerk doesn't deserve Tami Sexy-Awesome Bad Ass Hayes!"

Tami was still chuckling when she picked up the phone. She had to at least find out what Mo wanted.

He wanted to get back together. "I was a fool," he told her. "I had mountains in the palm of my hands, and I threw it all away."

"That's a line from a Bob Dylan song. Try harder next time." Tami's dad had listened to Bob Dylan all the time. He'd played Dylan songs on his guitar, too, especially the love songs. Mom would sit and listen and smile at him, and sometimes Tami would try to sing along.

"Tami, I'm so sorry. I have nothing to do with that girl anymore. She's seeing some basketball player. Jason something."

"Oh, so you mean the girl who cheated with you cheated _on_ you? Surprise, surprise."

"I made a mistake, Tami."

"I made a mistake on my last algebra test. I forgot to carry the two when I was adding equations."

"Fine. A _huge_ mistake. I love you, honey doll, I love you so much. Give me one more chance. I swear I'll never cheat again."

"No," Tami said firmly, even if she was wavering just a little.

What if Mo really _did_ love her? It wasn't as if she was attracted to anyone else except Eric, and Eric probably had no interest in doing anything more with her, or, if he did, he wasn't _serious_. He had a "nonexclusive" girlfriend. It wasn't as if Tami would ever be anything more than one of two or more girls he was seeing non-exclusively.

"You used up all your chances," she told him.

" _All?_ What? So I only get _one_?"

"Yep. Though I doubt that was your first time cheating on me."

"C'mon, sweetie pie, Tami, honey. You know how good we were together. Remember junior prom? How much fun we had? Who's going to take you to senior prom?"

"I'm sure I can have my pick of at least ten guys."

"No one on the team is going to cross me by taking you."

"Who said I had any interest in football players anymore anyway? Two guys on the baseball team have already asked me out on dates. And two from the basketball team." It was true. She didn't particularly like any of them, and she'd turned them all down. "Goodbye, Mo. Don't call me again." Tami slammed down the phone in the cradle.

Shelley was standing in the hallway that led to the living room. "I bet that felt fucking fantastic."

Tami almost told her sister to stop dropping f-bombs, but before she could sound too much like her mother, she stopped herself. "It did," she said. "It really did."


	15. Sunday, January 17

**[Sunday, January 17]**

When Tami arrived at the Taylor house, only Eric was home. "Where's your dad?"

"Out working."

Tami chortled. "On an _emergency repair_?"

"Yeah. I don't know why you think it's so funny. Older people need to have ...companionship... too. Do you want to order pizza?"

"I ate before I came. I didn't realize we were having dinner together."

"Uh...yeah...no...I ate too. I just wasn't sure if you had." He sat down at the kitchen table. "Let's get started."

As she was opening her book, she noticed a camera on the kitchen counter. A nice one. "You like photography too?"

"No. Not really. My aunt in Oklahoma sent me that for my birthday a few weeks ago. I have no idea why. I don't take photos of anything. Thought you might want to borrow it until I go away to college. Take some touch-of-the-human photos with it."

"Really? It looks expensive."

"A'ight. Then make sure you don't break it. But take it home with you tonight. I don't need it right now." He pointed to her book. "We better get started."

Ten minutes into the tutoring, his stomach growled. "I might just get a little snack," he said, and made himself a thick sandwich. Then he left to brush his teeth.

Tami found that to be a bit odd. "Do you always brush your teeth after every meal?"

"If I can."

By the end of the hour, Tami felt much better about her upcoming test. She was packing up her books when Eric said, "So…want to offer me some kind of compensation? Since it's not a peer session?"

She yanked the zipper of her backpack closed. "You mean $10?"

"I'd rather have six minutes."

Her breath caught. Was he asking to make out again? Had last Sunday _not_ been a one-time thing? "Of…?"

"Making out. This time with more touching."

Her logical brain told her to say no. Her animal brain spoke a bit louder. She willed herself not to tingle, but she _was_ tingling.

She shouldn't be doing this. Not with a boy who still had a girlfriend, even if he _did_ have permission to see other girls. She shouldn't do it.

But she _wanted_ to do it.

"No touching," she insisted.

"Just your chest," he said.

"Only on top of the shirt," she insisted.

"Under the shirt," he bargained, "but on top of the bra."

"Okay, but I don't know why your fee has gone up. It's only been a week."

"My fee goes up every week," he said. "I'm just that good."

She smiled. Eric was a tangled mixture of sheer bravado, genuine self-confidence, unexpected vulnerabilities, and self-aggrandizing humor. She wasn't entirely sure where the act ended and the true Eric began.

Tami followed him to the living room. They were playing a sort of game, she knew, but that's what you did when you were a teenager, wasn't it? You made bets, bargains, trades, dares, played strip poker and spin the bottle, pretended to be doing what you were doing under duress, when, really, you'd wanted to do it all along.

They faced each other on the couch. She could feel her heart racing, beating against her chest, and they hadn't even started. He raised his wrist and poised a finger over the stop watch button. "Ready?"

She nodded.

"Set?"

Oh God, she thought. He was going to touch her breasts. What was he going to do with them?

"Go!"

The watch beeped.

He didn't go for the breasts right away. He French kissed her for a long while first, his minty tongue tangling with hers, his hands caressing her hair and back, much more gently this time.

By the time he cupped her left breast through her shirt, her nipples were already erect in anticipation. He ran a thumb over the left one. He slid his hand under her shirt, and cupped her breast again. He squeezed. He ran his thumb over the hardened nipple, through the thin fabric of her bra. "Beautiful," he whispered. "Perfect, Tami. I love the way you feel."

Then he moved to the other breast, cupped, squeezed, and this time, instead of circling her nipple with his thumb, he took two fingers and pinched it.

She gasped.

"You like that," he breathed. "Don't you?"

She didn't say yes, even though she wanted to _scream_ yes. She held it back. He kissed her neck and continued to caress and fondle her breasts through her bra. She wanted to press her lower half against something, anything. That was when he bent his knee up on the couch. She slid forward, opened her legs, and might actually have begun grinding against his knee if the watch hadn't beeped.

The sound cleared her haze and brought her instantly back to reality. She slid away from him, still aching, but ignoring the ache. She was glad for the interruption. She didn't want him to know just how badly she wanted him. She looked down at his lap. He was just as hard as last week.

The kitchen door opened and slammed closed. Not an angry slam, but more of a the-door-got-away-from me slam. Eric grabbed the throw pillow that was against the arm of the couch and put it in his lap. Tami pulled her shirt straight and made sure it was all the way down.

Mr. Taylor's workboots clumped on the kitchen tile. He entered the living room unbuttoning his coat. He had a button-down, dark green flannel shirt on underneath. He stopped when he saw Eric and Tami on the couch.

"We took a break from tutoring," Eric said, "To watch a little TV."

Mr. Taylor glanced toward the TV, which was off.

"We just turned it off," Eric said.

Tami stood up. "Thanks for the help," she said. "I feel ready for that test now. I need to get going. 'Nite Mr. Taylor." She waved at him.

She'd taken one step when Mr. Taylor said, "Eric, don't be rude. Be a gentleman and see the lady out."

"It's okay!" Tami insisted. "I know the way!" She hastened through the kitchen, grabbed the camera from the countertop, and snatched her backpack off the table. Five seconds later, she was grinding her old, two-door sedan to a start.


	16. Thursday, January 21

**[Thursday, January 21]**

Monday was a holiday, and Tami hadn't seen Eric Tuesday, except from afar, across the cafeteria. Yesterday afternoon's tutoring session had been largely uneventful. The library had been crowded, and Tami didn't want to be the first one to broach the subject of their second make-out session. The topic had never arisen. But Tami told Sarah about the make-out sessions over lunch. She'd made Eric promise not to tell anyone, but _she_ hadn't promised not to.

"So what do you think his rate is going to be this Sunday?" Sarah asked as she opened her milk carton.

"I don't know," Tami admitted.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "And he's still seeing the college chick?"

"I think so."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"We're not _dating_. I'm not his girlfriend." Tami shrugged. "It's just fun. It feels good. We'll all be graduating soon and then I'll never see him again." She tried to sound casual when she said it, but she didn't relish the idea of never seeing Eric Taylor again.

"You'll see him on TV. During one of the college bowls," Sarah said.

"Yeah. Probably." Hugging some other girl on the sidelines, no doubt. Some _actual_ girlfriend. "I don't want a boyfriend," she insisted. "Boyfriends are just heartache. I just want to have some fun and move on. It's not like we're going to go all the way. It's not like - "

"- He's coming," Sarah interrupted her.

"What?"

"Behiiiiind you," Sarah sang. Tami turned and saw Eric walking up to the table.

He stopped and put his fingers on the table next to Tami, but then he looked at Sarah. "My friend Joey wants to know if you'll go out with him next month. He has two tickets to the Aerosmith concert in Dallas. It's February 13th."

"Aerosmith?" Sarah said. "Seriously?"

Eric nodded.

"I love Aerosmith!" Sarah exclaimed.

"I think he's aware," Eric said. "I think that's why he got the tickets. You want to go or not?"

"Is he playing Cyrano de Bergerac by sending you over here?" Sarah asked.

"Playing what?"

"Never mind. Tell him yes. Tell him I'll go."

"A'ight," Eric said. Then he turned his attention to Tami. "You get Tuesday's math test back yet?"

"Not yet," she said. "She couldn't find mine. Said she thinks maybe it got mixed in with some other papers in her car, and I should stop by her classroom at the end of lunch and pick it up."

"Well, tell me how you did when you get it." Eric looked at Sarah. "Joey will call you later, work out the details." He slid a hand into his pocket. "And, hey, Sarah, be nice to him. He _really_ likes you. And you never met a nicer guy."

"How do you know I never met a nicer guy?"

"Fine," Eric said, " _I_ never met a nicer guy."

"Well, you do know a lot of assholes on the football team," Sarah said, "so I'm not sure if that's saying much."

"I know five assholes on the football team," Eric said. "On the roster anyway. That's about ten percent. That's about commiserate with the general population."

"Commiserate with?" Sarah asked, smiling.

"Yeah, commiserate with. I have a vocabulary, believe it or not."

"I think you mean _commensurate_ with."

Eric smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'll keep that in mind, if I ever have to take the SAT's again. I don't think I will though seeing as I already have a full scholarship to one of the top 80 universities in the entire nation."

"Must be nice," Sarah said.

"It _is_ nice. Not as nice as you though. You're sweeter than molasses."

Sarah laughed. "I like him," she told Tami when he was walking back to his table. "Don't fire him just yet."

 **[FNL]**

At the end of the school day, Tami lifted the handle of her locker door to make sure it had latched. Eric's shoulder thudded against the locker next to her. His hands were tucked in his pockets.

"Stop startling me like that," she insisted.

"Did you pick up that test?"

"Yeah. 79."

"79!" He smiled. "Well done."

"Only a five point improvement over the last time. I can do better."

"You can," he agreed. "But that's pretty good improvement, from an F to a C+ in just six sessions."

"We've had seven."

"Only six before that test, though. I think I'm going to have to raise my Sunday tutoring fee."

Tami could feel her cheeks warming. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. So think about your budget. And I'll be thinking about what I consider to be a fair reward for my obviously effective services, and after our session Sunday evening, we can work out an agreeable price."

"You'll be thinking about it, huh?" she asked.

"For the next three days," he said. "All day." He stood straight, smiled, and walked away.

 **[FNL]**

"When are you going to start dating again?" Shelley asked Tami. The 9th grader was sitting cross-legged on Tami's bed, her fingers outstretched, while Tami did her nails. Nails were permitted by Mom, but no makeup until sixteen. Those were the house rules. Tami had kept her makeup in her backpack and put it on before first period.

"I'm not interested in having a boyfriend," Tami assured her little sister. "I graduate in four months. No sense getting involved now. I'm done with high school dating."

"Really? No one you're interested in? Because you slammed down that phone on Mo the other day, and you were whistling earlier tonight. No way you're _that far_ over Mo unless you're crushing on a new guy."

"I was with Mo for seventeen months. You don't get over a betrayal that quick. I'm not over the betrayal, but I _am_ over him. And it didn't take another guy for that. It just took Mo."

"Fine. But there _is_ another guy, isn't there? I have to make sure I don't accidentally go after your guy."

Tami laughed. "You? Go after _my_ guy? Stick to freshmen and sophomores, Shelley. Guys your own age. Older guys want sex right away." Tami hoped Shelley would remain a virgin longer than she had, preferably until college. Maybe longer.

"Mom says they _all_ want sex right away. And if I give an inch, they'll take a mile. And if I let them take a mile, I'll burn in hell."

Their mother never actually said they _would_ burn in hell. She just said they would _deserve_ to burn in hell. Of course, Mom though _everyone_ deserved to burn in hell, including herself. _Thank God for grace_ , she told them.

"Look, I know Mom's over the top, but…really. Take it slow, Shelley, when you start dating someone seriously." Shelley had told Tami there were two boys she was _crushing on_. "I don't ever want you to have any major regrets." Tami had never told Shelley about Paul. She was too embarrassed by her mistake, and she didn't think her baby sister would ever do anything so misguided. She had a big sister to advise her, after all, even if she didn't have a father to protect her.

"You said _your_ guy," Shelley said. "That means there is someone you consider _your_ guy. I knew it! Tell me."

"He's not _my_ guy. It's just a casual fling."

"Who is he?"

"We're not telling anyone," she said, even though she'd already told Sarah. "We're not dating, and we're not going to go very far. We just make out sometimes. Once a week. That's all. That's all it's going to be. And I'm totally fine with that. It's a good way to pass the time while I'm stuck in high school." Tami painted another one of Shelley's nails and tried to convince herself of her own words.


	17. Saturday, January 23

**[Saturday, January 23]**

"Can I take your portrait?" Tami asked Mrs. Hernandez. "I think it might be fun, to take and develop all the resident's photos. Maybe we could make a collage for the bulletin board." The decorative theme of the board had not been changed since Christmas.

"Oh, dearie, I'm not young and beautiful anymore. Did you know I used to be an exotic dancer?"

"I believe it," Tami said, though she was pretty sure it wasn't true. Tom said Mrs. Hernandez had been a 3rd grade school teacher for 35 years, but the woman had been many things in her own mind, including a World War II nurse who had an affair with Ernest Hemingway. "And you're still beautiful. Just let me capture that beauty. I could wheel you out to the garden. Would that be okay?" It was winter, but it was a cactus garden and still green.

When they got out there, Mrs. Hernandez asked what they were doing in the garden, and Tami explained again. When Tami had set up her camera, the woman asked where she got it. "My tutor let me have it for the rest of the year."

Mrs. Hernandez smiled. "Your football player? Your gentleman friend?"

Mrs. Hernandez's sparks of lucid memory were unpredictable and heartwarming to Tami. "Not sure how much of a gentleman he is," she answered. Eric was making out with Tami on Sundays, and still seeing Laura on Saturdays. Not exactly Mr. Darcy. He was certainly discrete about their interactions, however. Most guys would be bragging around school by now.

"I don't know, dearie. He heard you when you said you liked photography, which means he's listening to you. Then he made sure you had a decent camera to use, which means he cares that you're happy pursing your interests."

Tami shook her head. "No. He just didn't have any use for it. His aunt gave it to him for his birthday."

Mrs. Hernandez made a tsking sound and shook her head. "Dearie, I've been around the block a few times. Let me tell you something. This young man of yours figured out what you like and he gave it to you. If he can do it with a camera, he can do it in the bedroom."

Tami laughed.

Then Mrs. Hernandez laughed, and that was when Tami snapped the photo.

 **[FNL]**

Tami's mother looked at the door knob in her hand – just in her hand – not on the door – it had come straight off the inside of the kitchen door – and sighed.

Tami stood just behind her. "That sucks," she said.

"Don't say sucks," Mom insisted testily, "it's such a _crass_ word _."_

Tami rephrased: "That's unfortunate."

"This place is getting to be such a mess. There's this," Mrs. Hayes held up the fallen knob, "that gate that's hanging by one hinge, that hole in the living room wall..." (Shelley had punched it while rocking too hard in the rocking chair) "...There's at least six things that need fixing around here. I wish I had a good handyman, and one who would work on Saturday."

"My tutor's dad is a handyman. He works on Saturdays."

"Really?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

Mr. Taylor showed up at 3 PM. The only reason Tami knew he was there was because, while she and Shelley were sitting at the kitchen table studying, their mom was gazing out the window and exclaimed, "Oh _my_!"

"What?" Shelley asked.

"I said," Mrs. Hayes insisted, "he's arrived." But she picked up one of her recipe cards from off the corner hutch and fanned herself.

Mrs. Hayes held up the knob in the kitchen window and pointed toward the front door of their small, one-story rambler. Mr. Taylor nodded and walked around. He strolled confidently into the Hayes's house and to the kitchen and stood with his hand on one hip, his heavy tool belt slightly askew around his waist, and said, "Why hello, Ms. Tami Hayes."

"You've met my daughter?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

"Sure. She's been over to the house the last two Sundays for her tutoring sessions with my son."

Her mom cast a suspicious glance her way. "I thought you were getting tutored in the school library, Tami."

"On Mondays and Wednesdays, but it's not open Sundays."

"You meet in your tutor's _house_?" Mom asked.

Tami's Mom had no idea how far she'd gone with Mo. Tami had been allowed to go on official dates with him, but she had a strict curfew, and they weren't supposed to be alone in Mo or Tami's house together. Mom had apparently forgotten that cars had backseats, that woods had alcoves, that Mo's parents often were not at home, and that teenagers didn't always follow the rules.

Mrs. Hayes looked at Mr. Taylor. "Well, they have adult supervision. That's all that matters I guess. That they aren't home alone. You're with them when they're there."

"Uh…" Mr. Taylor glanced at Tami, then at Tami's mom. "Well…"

Before Mr. Taylor could reveal his lack of supervision, Tami interrupted, "I hope Eric had a safe drive to UNT this weekend."

"He didn't go this weekend," Mr. Taylor said. "Or last weekend for that matter. I think maybe that whole thing is finally winding down. And that's probably for the best. It's over two hours to UNT, and that's a big age difference at this time in life. Not to mention the fact that the girl didn't even bother to make it down for more than three of his games last season."

Tami was surprised by the strength of her feeling of relief. Eric _wasn't_ seeing Laura anymore. He _hadn't_ had sex with her since he and Tami had begun their Sunday make-out sessions. He _wasn't_ driving up to UNT just to get laid. He'd cut Laura loose when she'd decided to stop being exclusive. Tami was, perhaps, the _only_ girl he'd kissed in almost three weeks.

Mr. Taylor looked at the hole in the door where the knob used to be. "Well that's inconvenient."

"There's more," Mrs. Hayes said and led Mr. Taylor out of the kitchen.

When both Mr. Taylor and Mrs. Hayes were back in the kitchen, Mr. Taylor said, "I think I can get it all done in under three hours. My fee is $18 an hour for labor, plus any parts."

"Oh," Mrs. Hayes said, sounding deflated. "That's…a lot." Tami's mom made $4.20 an hour, $6.40 for those 10 hours of overtime she worked.

"That's a competitive rate, Mrs. Hayes, and I'm more efficient than most handymen. I also charge precisely what the parts cost and not a penny more. I think you'll find it's very competitive indeed."

"I'm sure it is. I just didn't realize what handymen went for these days. My husband used to do all these things. He died. Six years ago. I'm sorry I've wasted your time, coming out here, but I just don't think I'm going to be able to afford that. Do you have a fee for coming out?"

"Wait," Mr. Taylor said. "What day is this? Is this Saturday or Sunday?"

"It's Saturday," Mrs. Hayes said incredulously, almost scoldingly, as though to ask him how he could not know.

"Is it the third or fourth Saturday in January?"

"It's the fourth," Mrs. Hayes said.

He snapped his fingers. "The fourth Saturday. I didn't realize. I do apologize, ma'am, that I forgot to inform you about my fourth Saturday special. Every fourth Saturday, labor is half price, and the first hour is free."

"Really? That's a pretty big special."

"Well, specials are good for business, ma'am. Got to offer them from time to time."

"I guess I could do that. You're sure it won't be more than three hours at most?"

"Positive."

Tami and Shelley had a lazy afternoon while Mr. Taylor worked. They played cards and watched two re-runs of _Love Boat_. Meanwhile their Mom kept offering Mr. Taylor glass after glass of cold, refreshing sweet tea. He took the first three, but had to say no thank you to the fourth one and ask if he could please use the restroom.

When Mrs. Hayes had disappeared into the kitchen again, Shelley said, "I think Mom has the hots for the handyman."

"Well, she's dating someone already." The idea of Mom lusting after Mr. Taylor horrified her. Tami was making out with the man's _son_. Her mother couldn't possibly consider making out with _him_.

"Yeah," Shelley said with a smile, "but I don't think Pastor John can hold a candle to some strapping, workboot-wearing, tall, dark, muscular guy who's probably a lot closer to mom's age."

"I'm pretty sure Mr. Taylor has a girlfriend."

"If not two or three," Shelley said. "Is your tutor as hot as he is? He's the one you're making out with, isn't he?"

"I don't usually find middle-age men hot. Do you?" Tami asked.

"I'm not trying to be creepy," Shelley said, "but objectively, you can admit the handyman is hot."

"Okay, objectively. Subjectively, his son is hotter."

Shelley laughed, and Tami wondered if Eric would look as good as his father twenty years from now, if he would age that gracefully.

"So...is your tutor Jake Taylor or Kash Taylor or Buddy Taylor? I guess it can't be Jake. He's not hot. And Buddy doesn't look anything like the handyman. But Kash is hot. Kash is kind of young for you though."

Tami didn't know any of those Taylors. "No. It's Eric."

" **THE** Eric Taylor?"

"I didn't know he was royalty, but yeah. Don't go blabbing about it, though. He isn't advertising it. Neither am I. It's just casual, just sometimes. Just a little. Promise you won't talk!"

"Shhh!" Shelley hissed.

Workboots could be heard in the hallway. Mr. Taylor came through the living room, wiping some sweat from his brow with the back of his flannel-shirt-clad arm. He must have a limitless supply of flannel shirts. Tami had seen him in red, green, and brown now. "Mrs. Hayes?" he called.

Tami's mom hastened into the living room. "Yes?" she asked.

"I'm done. Found a couple more things I went ahead and fixed while I was at it. Since your first hour was free, and that took two hours, and we have the half price special going, and I already had extra parts in my truck anyway….that's just $9, ma'am."

Shelley glanced at her watch. It had been three hours, not two. "That's not even minimum wage," Shelley whispered to Tami.

"The parts probably cost him more than $9," Tami whispered back.

"Come to the kitchen," Mrs. Hayes said. "I'll get my checkbook." As Mr. Taylor trailed after her, she asked, "Can I get you a glass of sweet tea?"


	18. Sunday, January 24

**[Sunday, January 31]**

After her mother's comment about supervision, Tami feared Mr. Taylor might be home for the entire tutoring session. He was there when she arrived, watching TV in the living room. The hum of his program reached the kitchen.

Tami unpacked her book and notebook on the kitchen table. She also drew out the photo she'd developed of Mrs. Hernandez and a few other of the nursing home residents. Eric looked them over. "Nice play of light and dark," he told her. "Good use of shading."

"Yeah?" Tami asked. "You think so?"

He laughed. "I don't know. It just sounded like something smart to say. I don't know anything about photography at all." He pointed to the one of Mrs. Hernandez. "But she looks really alive. Happy. Touch of the human, huh?"

Tami smiled. "I guess."

"So that camera worked for you then?"

He was looking at her earnestly when he asked it. His gaze made her feel suddenly shy. She looked away. "Yeah," she muttered.

"I figured you'd make better use of it than I would."

"I hope Mrs. Hernandez likes the photo," Tami said, looking at the picture instead of him. "Not that she'll remember me taking it."

"My grandma had dementia. She'd forget who I was," Eric said. "She was relatively young when she had it, too, it wasn't because of old age. Something to do with her kidneys. She died when I was four, and then my aunt got married and moved to Oklahoma, so it's just been me and my dad ever since."

"Did your dad ever consider marrying your mom?"

"Yeah. Sure. He proposed when she said she was pregnant. But she said no. She didn't want to be tied down." He shrugged. "Wanted to go to college, do something important I guess. So after I was born, she signed papers terminating her parental rights, went to school in California."

Tami didn't understand how a mother could do that, how she could hold her baby in her arms and then just leave it. That must have left a hole somewhere in Eric's heart, to be rejected by his own mother. That was worse than the death of a parent. At least Tami knew her father had loved her, wanted her. Tami wanted to reach out and hug Eric, but she didn't. "And you don't know where she is now?"

Eric shook his head. "I've never met her." He spoke through a clenched jaw. "Can we get started?"

"Of course."

After they'd gone over two practice problems, the phone rang. Eric stood, but Mr. Taylor, clearly expecting an important call, rushed into the kitchen and snatched it up. "Taylor residence." He listened for a minute and then frowned. "Uh...let me just check if he's available." Mr. Taylor put his hand over the mouthpiece. "It's Laura," he told Eric. Eric shook his head. "Laura, Eric's not available right now, can I take a message?" He listened for a good minute and then said, "Hold on. I think I just saw his truck pull up. Let me check." He put his hand over the mouthpiece again. "She's worried you're not going to coach her little brother's Pee Wee camp this June now. You better talk to her."

Eric sighed, rose, and took the phone. Mr. Taylor left the kitchen.

"Nah," Eric said into the phone, "I promised I'd do that, I'll do that. That's got nothing to do with what happens between us." Pause. "Well, I've been busy the past couple of weekends. Haven't you?" Longer pause. "No, I don't think I'm going to make it up next weekend either." Pause. "Well, can't you get some _more mature_ guy to take you to that?" Pause. "I don't like being the backup guy." Pause followed by a sigh. "Maybe I am. Is that really your business, though, seeing as you were the one who said we should see other people?"

Tami pretended to be absorbed with the problem she was working.

"Laura, listen...I think we should just...let's just call it quits, a'ight? Completely. I should have just done that as soon as you said you wanted to see other guys." Pause. "Well I guess I was keeping the door open, you know, just in case you changed your mind and decided you'd been an idiot. But I think it's time to officially shut that door. I don't even know who you are anymore. I don't even think I'd want you back if you decided to be exclusive again."

Tami pretended to write on the paper, but she was just writing random numbers.

"No, I can't just be open to that. Listen, I don't really like revolving doors. I like doors that lock and I've got the only key." Pause. "I know it's a bad metaphor. I never said I was a poet. I guess you've got more mature guys who write poetry up at UNT anyway."

Mr. Taylor came back in the kitchen and looked at his son. "I'm expecting a call," he said. "And you have a guest."

"I gotta go, Laura. Have a nice life." Eric hung up the phone. He didn't slam it down the way Tami had on Mo, but he looked like maybe he wanted to.

The phone rang almost instantly. Mr. Taylor picked it up. He listened as Eric sat back down at the table across from Tami.

Mr. Taylor let out his low chuckle. "So your kids are spending the night at their father's?" he asked. "Then I guess this would be an ideal time for me to really focus on those repairs _in detail_." Another low chuckle. "Oh, yes, of course, I have all the necessary tools. And protective gear." He listened. "Yes, ma'am. I will." He hung up the phone. "Eric," he said, "I have to go help out a homeowner with a really big emergency project. It could take a long while. I might have to work until midnight. Don't wait up for me."

"A'ight," Eric said.

Mr. Taylor took his coat down from a hook on the wall and slid it on. He picked up his keys from the kitchen desk and slid them in his pocket. Then he opened a lower kitchen cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. Tami was very tempted to make a comment. As he was walking to the door, Mr. Taylor noticed Tami noticing the wine. He raised the bottle slightly. "Among other things, I'm going to have to repair a wine rack at this house," he said. "I need to make sure it will hold a bottle properly when I'm done."

Tami smiled. "Have a good night, sir."

"I will." He walked out the door.

"Aren't you just a little bit curious who he's seeing?" Tami asked Eric when he was gone.

Eric rubbed his eyes. "No."

"She's obviously a divorced, single mother. You know anyone like that?"

"That's his business. Let's get back to these problems."

When the hour of tutoring was up, she met Eric's eyes and smiled. This was the moment she had been thinking about all morning and all afternoon.

"So uh..." he said with a smile of his own, "how about seven minutes?"

"Seven minutes of what, exactly?" she asked with a shiver.

"Shirts off. Your bra off. And I can touch anywhere."

This game was moving further every week, and Tami thought she should put an end to it, right here and now. Yet the strength of her physical attraction to Eric was almost overwhelming.

She'd though Mo was cute, and she'd enjoyed their physical relationship well enough, but she'd never experienced an attraction _this_ intense. Was this how teenage boys felt all the time? No wonder they though about sex constantly. Tami had woken up twice last night from dreams of Eric. And now that she knew his hands and lips hadn't been on Laura since they'd touched her, she felt a little less guilty about her desire.

"Not _anywhere,"_ she said. _"_ Only above the waist."

"A'ight."

" _Shirts_ off. That means _yours_ , too."

"Of course."

She blushed, smiled, looked at the table, tingled, pushed away the guilt. "Okay. I accept your terms."

Eric led her to the living room, where she sat on the couch. He stood in front of her and unbuttoned his long-sleeve shirt. He hadn't started his stop watch yet. He slid the shirt off and let it fall behind himself to the ground.

He had a nice chest – muscular, with strong shoulders and rippling lines she wanted to caress. He had a dark spray of hair that gave way to a fine trail leading over his abdomen and into his jeans. She followed it with her eyes until it disappeared, and she tried not to think about where it led.

"Your turn," he said.

"Start the stop watch first."

There was a beep as he pushed the button.

She pulled her t-shirt over her head and began to reach for the front clasp of her bra. "No," he said. "I want to do that."

He kneeled down on the floor in front of her, between her knees, and seized the clasp. He popped it free and watched her breasts spill out. "Damn, you're beautiful, Tami."

He didn't touch them right away. He leaned in and French kissed her for a while first, which gave her an opportunity to explore his chest and shoulders with her fingers. He must lift weights often. His skin was smooth, and warm, and his muscles were hard.

Eventually, he took her hand from his chest and put it to the side, pressing it down on the couch cushion. "My turn," he said.

The feel of his hands on her bare breasts was so much more intense than it had been through the bra. Her nipples sprang erect at his touch. He kissed the base of her neck while he fondled her, but when he dipped his head as though to take a nipple in his mouth, as much as she wanted to feel his lips and tongue, she said, "No. We just said touching."

He dragged his head back up and kissed her deeply on the mouth. His touch and tongue sent heat shooting between her legs. She slid forward a little, until his belt buckle was pressed against her need. She wanted him to stretch higher on his knees, so that his erection was pressed there instead. She wanted him to dry hump her, but she didn't want to admit she wanted it. She just kept kissing him and burying her hands in the back of his thick, dark hair while he enjoyed her breasts. By the time the watch beeped, she was aching.

He sat back on the floor, his arms behind himself, and breathed hard. His eyes were on her chest. She reclasped her bra and put on her t-shirt.

"Can I have a glass of water?" she asked. Really, she just needed him to stop staring so hungrily at her, and for him to move so that she could stop staring at the erection pressing against his jeans.

He stood and walked out of the living room. When he returned, still shirtless, he handed her a glass of water. He sat on the couch beside her.

She didn't know what to say.

How long were they going to play this game?

How far were they going to take it?

She sipped her water glass in silence until it was empty. "I should be getting home," she said, feeling guilty about her own attraction to him and about her weakness in giving into it so easily.

He seemed surprised. "Now?"

"It's getting late," she said.

"A'ight." He stood, put on his shirt, and saw her to the door. "Want me to walk you to your car?" he asked as he finished buttoning his top button and she opened the kitchen door.

"It's just right there," she said, but he walked her anyway, across the lawn. When she unlocked the door and pulled it open, she almost hit him, because she didn't realize he was going to try to open the door _for_ her. "Sorry," she muttered.

He stepped back and stood with his hands in his pockets as she got in. She waved goodbye and she pulled away from the curb, wondering what they were doing and why they were doing it and, most of all, just how soon they would do it again.


	19. February 2 - 6

**[Monday, February 2]**

Eric walked by Tami's lunch table and dropped a Reese's peanut butter cup in front of her. "Happy Monday," he said, and kept walking on to his own table.

"Your favorite," Sarah told her. "He really likes you."

"I don't even know how he knows that. I guess I mentioned it at tutoring one time."

"So are you two officially dating now?"

"No. We're just...I don't know what we're doing. Having fun."

Sarah shook her head. "He still hasn't asked you on a real date yet?"

"I don't care about that," Tami said, reassuring herself more than Sarah. "It's a little late in the year for a relationship. I don't want to become attached. We're graduating in May. He's going to Baylor in early August. I don't want to go through another serious breakup."

"Are you telling me you wouldn't say yes if Eric asked you to go out with him?"

Tami didn't answer.

"Maybe he isn't asking because you kept saying you would _never_ date another football player. Maybe he thinks you don't _want_ to date him. You should ask _him_ out."

"I don't think he wants to date me. I don't think he's over Laura. He's stopped seeing her, but I don't think he's ready for a _real_ girlfriend. And I'm not ready for a boyfriend either, so..." She shrugged. "This is fun. Might as well enjoy myself without risking my heart."

Sarah laughed. "Sure. There's no risk at all you're going to fall head over heels for the hot guy who helps you pass algebra, lends you a camera, remembers your favorite candy bar, and is a fantastic kisser - according to _you_. No danger there."

"I'm _not_ asking him out," Tami insisted. She was afraid of losing what they already enjoyed if he said no, and she was afraid of becoming too attached to him if he said yes. She was afraid she would come to want more than he did. She was afraid she _already_ wanted more than he did. She was afraid of his rejection, and she was afraid of his acceptance too. Yet she pretended not to be afraid of anything at all. "We're just having some fun," she said. "Nothing wrong with a little fun."

 **[Wednesday** **, February 3** **]**

When Tami thought, she chewed on her eraser. She was doing that now as she looked at a problem she'd missed on Monday's test. When she looked up, she saw that Eric was staring at her lips.

"Do I use the quadratic formula?" she asked.

"What?" He looked up and met her eyes.

"Do I use the quadratic formula?"

"You should factor," he said. He got up, came around the table, and stood beside her, very close. He leaned over and pointed. "Reduce that first." He smelled like cinnamon. Why did he smell like cinnamon?

She turned her face toward him. His lips were so near her lips. If she wanted, she could just lean forward ever so slightly and kiss him. What would he do if she did? They had never kissed outside of their Sunday sessions.

The moment passed. He sat back down.

"Are you _tutoring_ anyone else?" she asked.

"No."

"Good," Tami said, and then wished she hadn't said it, because that might imply she thought there was something more here than there was. "Good idea to factor. I'll do that."

"How about you?" he asked. "Is anyone else... _tutoring_ you?"

She shook her head.

"Good," he said. "I mean, it can get confusing, more than one tutor."

She tried to concentrate on the returned test before her. "I wish I had gotten better than an 80. That's only one point more than last week."

"Yeah," Eric reassured her, "but this material is much more difficult. Everyone else probably got a lower grade than last week, and you got a higher one."

"You're just saying that because you want to be paid for your Sunday tutoring services."

She peered up at him. He was smiling. She smiled too.

One advantage of this payment game was that Tami didn't have to admit just how badly she wanted him. In a way, she controlled the pace through bargaining over his price, but she could also leave the impression that _he_ was the one who wanted it more than she did. It was a buffer against rejection.

"You're grasping this, Tami. The math, I mean. You really are."

 **[Thursday, February 4]**

"You're on table 5," Sarah told Tami. "I sat them already."

Tami made her way over to the table, pad in hand. "Hi, I'm Tami," she piped automatically in her fake, friendly voice as she looked at the pretty, thirty-something woman seated on one side of the table, "and I'll be your waitress. What – " she turned her face toward the man.

Her policy was to always greet the woman first, but to pay just a little more attention to the man, since he was usually the tipper. Smile at him a lot. But don't flirt too obviously, because then the woman would get pissed, and if she did end up paying the check, or just influencing how much the man tipped, that could backfire.

Tami found herself looking into the face of Mr. Taylor.

"Hello, Ms. Tami Hayes," he said.

Tami glanced back at the woman, then at him.

"Hello, sir," she said. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"The lady will have a glass of your house cabernet. I'll have a Shiner Bock."

She scribbled the order down.

"We'll both have waters. She'll have the pecan chicken salad. I'll have the 12 ounce sirloin with the fully loaded baked potato and the mixed vegetables."

Tami wrote all this down quickly.

"Garrett, honey, you know," the woman said, "I'm perfectly capable of ordering for myself."

"But you shouldn't have to do any work tonight," he said.

"Garret, sweetheart – "

" - Did I get it wrong?"

"No," the woman admitted. "That's exactly what I want."

Tami wrote all this down and flashed a smile. "I'll put this right in," she said.

Every time she brought them something, they were holding hands across the table, and Mr. Taylor let go and pulled back. When she brought the check, the woman had left for the bathroom. "I know it's not my place to say, Mr. Taylor," Tami told him, "but I don't understand why you don't just tell your son you have a girlfriend and introduce her to him."

"You're right," Mr. Taylor responded. "It's not your place to say."

He slid the check toward himself and opened his wallet.

"I'm sorry. But he says you've _never_ introduced him to a girlfriend."

"If you must know, I've never done so for his own protection." He pulled out his credit card. "I can't know where any relationship is going to end up." He set his credit card atop his check. "He's already been abandoned by his biological mother. He doesn't need to get attached to some woman and watch her walk away too." He handed Tami his credit card and the check.

"Yes, sir. I apologize." She hastened from the table. When she returned his check, the woman was back, and she had her hand on his knee beneath the table. Tami put the check down and said, "Thank you for dining with us" and scurried off.

When they were gone, and she returned to collect the check, she saw that he had written in the line next to TIP: Mind your own business.

She sighed. It had been a $26 check, too. That would normally mean at least a $3 tip. She only got paid $2.95 an hour, not even minimum wage. She depended on tips. She'd have to make it up at some other table.

When she picked up his plate, though, she spied a $5 bill beneath, and when she picked that up, she found three more ones.

When she got home, she gave $10 of her evening tips to her mom.

"Thanks, Tami," Mrs. Hayes said. "This will help a lot with groceries this week." Her mom was sitting in the living room, watching the 10 o'clock news.

Shelley was in the rocking chair, reading V.C. Andrews's _Garden of Shadows_. That series was very popular among young high schoolers. Tami had read the first two when she was younger, but she found the whole incest theme a little off-putting. Mom would freak if she had any idea about the sexual content of the series, but she didn't monitor her daughters' reading the way she monitored their viewing.

Tami settled down on the couch next to her mother.

"Mr. Taylor did an excellent job fixing that hole, don't you think?" Mom asked, nodding to the smoothly patched wall behind the rocking chair. Dad had loved to sit in that chair, years ago. They'd brought it from the old, larger house to this one, with its three postage-stamp bedrooms, small living room, kitchen, and single bathroom. There was no dining room, no second story, no foyer to speak of. The laundry machine and dryer were stacked in a closet in the kitchen, where others might have had a pantry, and the family stored food in the hutch, which no longer contained the china Mom had pawned three years ago.

"He's very handy," Shelley agreed. "And not bad looking, huh?" She smiled at her mom.

"I hadn't noticed," Ms. Hayes averred. "But now that you mention it, I suppose he's handsome enough. I don't think he goes to church very often, though. He told me he works a lot of Sunday mornings. Such a shame."

"Well, you know," Shelley said, "he's a single father. You work overtime too."

" _Not_ on Sunday _mornings_ ," Mom insisted. She ignored the news that had come back on after the commercial. "Such a strange thing, a woman abandoning her child. Who ever heard of a man having to raise a child alone from birth? I hope that boy doesn't turn out too hard, without a mother."

Shelley looked over the top of her book at Tami and smirked. "What do you think, Tami? _Is_ he _hard_?"

Tami's eyes shot daggers at her sister. Mom stood up. "I better turn in. I have to be to work at 6 AM. You girls don't watch anything inappropriate, now."

"We never do," Shelley insisted.

When Mom's bedroom door had shut, Shelley said, "Turn on the VCR."

Tami had splurged, used some of her earnings, and bought a VCR for the family this Christmas, a wasteful expense that had brightened Shelley's holiday. VCRs used to be exorbitantly expensive when Dad was alive. They'd been over $1,000 in the 70s, but they'd come down considerably in price, and Tami had managed to buy a used one for only $99.

"I rented Friday the 13th part VI," Shelley told her.

"Shelley, I have to go to bed. We have school tomorrow."

"Geez, Mom. Fine. We'll watch it _Friday_ night. As is _fitting_. I don't have to return it until Saturday."

Tami yawned, stood, and made her way back to her bedroom. She tried not to think of Eric as she drifted off to sleep. She tried not to think of how Sunday might play out…she tried, but she failed, and she was glad Mom had bought a house with three bedrooms, even if it was a small house, and even if her bedroom was the size of Mo's parents' walk-in closet. At least she didn't have to share a room with Shelley. At least she had some privacy to fantasize.

 **[Saturday, February 6]**

"Looks good," Tom told Tami as she stapled the last photo on the bulletin board. She'd made a collage of all the snapshots of the resident's she'd taken. "Spruces up the place, you know?"

"Thanks."

"I've got a date tonight," he said with a certain amount of pride.

Tami smiled. "Good for you. How did you meet her?'

"She's the granddaughter of one of the residents. 19. Goes to Tyler Junior College. I've talked to her a lot but…" He laughed. "Finally mustered up the courage to ask her out. Turns out she likes me."

"Of course she does," Tami assured him.

"You seeing anyone since you broke up with Mo?"

"I…uh…Not really."

"Oh. That's a shame." Tom smiled and headed back to his office.

Back in Mrs. Hernandez's room, Tami read aloud her latest English assignment, O Henry's short story "Gift of the Magi." Tami didn't understand why her teacher hadn't assigned it around Christmas time, but she supposed it made just as good a Valentine's Day story, and that was coming up in a week.

"I wish I could sell my hair for twenty dollars," Tami said. "Like she does in this story. That's almost as much as I make during a 4-hour shift at Chili's, even with tips."

"Don't sell your hair, dearie," Mrs. Hernandez insisted. "It's magnificent."

"I _did_ win the senior superlative for best hair." Best smile had gone to Mo's cheating cheerleading bitch, though.

"And what did your football player win?"

"I told you, he's not _my_ football player. And he won best sportsmanship." Mo had won most athletic. Both were good in their positions, but Tami had been surprised by the school's choice. "My friend Sarah won teacher's pet." Tami smiled. "Eric also won prettiest eyes."

"You can tell a lot about a man from his eyes, dearie. How often they wander. How often they look into yours. How intense they are. Whether they ever get misty. How they smile. Never underestimate a man's eyes. They say more than his mouth."

Tami looked down at the story. She finished reading "The Gift of the Magi." She felt like crying a little bit when it was over. "It must be something," she said, "to love and be loved like that."

"I loved like that once," Mrs. Hernandez said.

"You had a good marriage then," Tami said.

"Oh, dearie, he wasn't my husband. His name was Elvis. We had a short, summer fling when I was visiting my cousin in Memphis."

Tami smiled. "Elvis Presley?"

"Was that his last name? I do think it was. He had the best hips. He could just…" She moved her hands in a circle, "swirl those things."

Tami laughed.

Mrs. Hernandez said, "You have a lovely, soothing voice, dearie. You should go into radio."

"You think? I don't know what I want to do with myself when I grow up." Tami felt like she was growing up fast this year, moving by leaps and bounds, becoming a different person, grasping for a dignity that had too long eluded her. But what she was doing with Eric…how mature was that, really? "What do you think about…you know, making out with a hot guy, just because you're attracted to him? Just because it feels good? And maybe because you kind of like him too? Even if you're not dating?"

"Does the girl he's dating know he's making out with you, dearie?"

"He's not dating anyone anymore."

"Oh, well, then, dearie, he's dating _you_."

"No, he's not. We just…make out. And he tutors me. Three times a week."

"So you spend time together three times a week, and you kiss, but you're not seeing each other?" Mrs. Hernandez shook her head and stared over Tami's shoulder at nothing in particular.

"So, do you think it's okay?" Tami asked.

Mrs. Hernandez blinked. "O.K.? The O.K. Corral. Oh yes, I remember that shoot-out well. A lot can happen in thirty seconds, dearie. Your life can change in thirty seconds. Doc Holliday looked so fine that afternoon."

Tami sighed. She guessed she wasn't getting any more coherent advice out of Mrs. Hernandez today.


	20. Sunday, February 7

**[Sunday, February 7]**

After their tutoring session, while Mr. Taylor was out on an "emergency repair" call, Eric led Tami to his bedroom. She hesitated in the doorway. They'd done their bargaining in the kitchen, and she'd essentially agreed to dry humping. Somehow, she'd found herself not only agreeing to it, but half _suggesting_ it. She hadn't known they would end up here tonight, but perhaps she had hoped for it. She'd worn a skirt with no tights, after all, even though it was winter, and she'd chosen a matching red silk bra and panties. Eric was not wearing the usual blue jeans, but rather a pair of slick, thin, athletic pants. It was pretty clear he'd been hoping for the same thing.

Excitement and guilt and doubt and desire danced a wild tango in her heart as she looked around his room. His bed was neatly made. The room was picked up, and the carpet vacuumed. There was a sports calendar on the wall (predictable enough), a Queen poster (she hadn't pegged him for a Queen fan), and a Johnny Cash poster (that didn't surprise her too much). There was also a faded spot on the tan, painted wall where a poster quite obviously used to be. She wondered if it had been a pin-up he'd removed this morning in preparation for their _session_.

"Is this okay?" he asked. "I just thought it would be more comfortable here. If you'd rather - "

"- It's fine." Tami stepped through the entry way as if throwing herself into a cold pool in a single daring jump. She sat on the edge of his bed.

Eric was wearing a dark black t-shirt. It accentuated his muscles. He pulled it off over his head.

"Are you going to start your watch?" she asked.

"My battery died. I'll have to get a new one. We can keep an eye on the clock."

She glanced at the night stand and saw an alarm clock. It read 8:05 PM.

He slid onto the bed behind her and lay on his side. He was barefoot, but she still had her cowgirl boots on. She unzipped them one by one and slid them off. Then she lay down beside him face to face.

He put a hand on the top button of her shirt and kissed her. He tasted salty, like the chips they'd been snacking on during their tutoring session. He slid a button loose. Then the next. She put a hand on his chest. He rested a hand on her hip so he wasn't blocking her, and that gave her space to explore. Tami ran her fingertips softly over the lines of every muscle while they continued to kiss.

Eric slid his hand off her hip and then slowly, one by one, unfastened the rest of the buttons of her shirt. He parted the material to reveal her lacy red bra. "Damn," he muttered. He kissed her for a minute more, caressing her gently through the bra, before he popped the front clasp.

She closed her eyes and murmured when he cupped one breast, and then the other. There was something in the contrast between the softness and the strength of his hands that drove her wild.

Eric gently urged her onto her back. He kissed her lips for a moment, and then slid down her body to kiss her breasts. She couldn't remember if they'd explicitly discussed this, his mouth on her breasts. Maybe they had. Maybe they hadn't. She could barely think anymore.

While he suckled one nipple, he lightly pinched the other. She was so intensely aroused, that when he flicked his tongue around her left nipple, she cried out his name and gripped the hair at the back of his head.

He tore his mouth from her breast and claimed her lips. After kissing her for awhile, he pulled back and lowered a hand to the hem of her skirt. "If you want to rub, it might be better if..."

Incapable of words, she nodded.

He pushed her skirt all the way up to her waist to reveal her panties. "You're so sexy, Tami," he said. "You're so beautiful. Damn you make me hard." He reclaimed her lips and slid atop her, his erection pushing against her panties through his athletic pants. She spread her legs and wrapped them around him.

"Yeah," he said as she began to rub against him, "that's good. That's hot."

Tami was on fire, and she wanted the aching to stop, but she was getting enough relief. She whimpered.

"I want to make you feel good," he told her as he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. "I want to make you feel fantastic."

She straddled him and rocked against him, her knees on either side of his thighs, her palms flat down on the beside his shoulders. She was desperate to subdue the physical ache that was consuming her. She jerked her hips, struggling to increase the pressure. There was too much material between them.

"That's good, Tami. Take what you want."

It surprised her how much he liked to talk, but she loved the deep, hungry sound of his voice.

He lifted his head to her breast and, once again, flicked her nipple with his tongue. A jolt of pleasure shot through her, and she moaned.

"You like that?" He put his mouth to her ear and whispered, "That makes you wet, doesn't it?"

"Oh, God!" She was rubbing against him as hard as she could now.

"Tami, I want to make you feel good."

"Please!" She'd never been _this_ aroused in her life. She thought she was going to burn up if she didn't get satisfaction soon.

He murmured in her ear, through his deep breathing, "Tami, cum for me."

"Oh God!" she screamed. She arched her back and shuddered. She rolled off of him, toward the edge of the bed, and lay on her back catching her breath. She looked over and saw the darkened patch at the front of his pants.

"Sorry," he muttered, blushing. "I don't usually...not from that. I guess I was really sensitive today."

"It's okay." Tami pulled her skirt back down to her knees, reclasped her bra, and pulled her shirt half closed over it.

She felt satiated and dirty at the same time. What were they doing, playing this game? What was she letting him do? Tami wanted him so badly, physically, but they weren't dating. She would be a fool to imagine he wanted any kind of real relationship. She was the rebound chick, and this was a pure sexual release for him. How could she let herself be used like this? Or was she using him?

"You feel good?" he asked between breaths, "Did that feel good for you?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

She didn't know what to say next. Should she get up and button up? Should she leave now? "Your dad will probably be back soon," she said, swinging her legs over the bed, sitting up, and buttoning her shirt.

He sat up and slid to the edge of the bed beside her.

"You better change before your dad gets home," she told him.

"I will." He kissed her cheek. "You have a good time?"

She nodded.

"You seem….upset."

"I'm not. I just…" She wanted to keep doing this, and she didn't. She wanted _him_ , but she didn't want to want him as much as she did. "I think we should stop doing this. We should stop making out. No more Sunday sessions."

"What?" He sounded deeply alarmed. "Why?"

As attracted as she was to him, and as excited as these exchanges had made her, she couldn't continue down this path. As much as she tried to convince herself that there was nothing wrong in having a bit of unattached fun, she knew she liked Eric more than he liked her. He was smarter than she had ever guessed he was, and a little bit funny, and a loyal friend to Joey, and a good son to his father, and a patient teacher, and good-looking, and confident, and capable of making her feel more sexual than she had ever felt before.

"I just…I'm not really that kind of girl."

"What kind of girl?" Now he sounded confused.

"I'll just pay you next Sunday for your help. I'll just pay you the ten dollars."

"Tami, I'll tutor you for free! You didn't really think this was payment did you? I thought you _wanted_ to do all this. I thought you were enjoying yourself! Did you feel like you _had_ to do this?"

She'd never heard him sound so upset. "No. No, I didn't feel like I had to. I _wanted_ to. I just don't know if it's a good idea. I mean, what are we doing? You don't want to date me."

"I _do_ want to date you," he said. "I want to take you out. I want to open the car door for you, and pull out your chair, and hold your hand across the table."

Did he think taking her on a date meant he'd be entitled to go further? She'd gone out with a guy like that once, toward the end of her sophomore year, after her mistake with Paul, but before she met Mo. He'd taken her to dinner _once_ , and then parked at make-out point afterwards and immediately expected a blowjob. When she'd said no, he'd complained, _But I bought you dinner._ She'd taken out a ten dollar bill from her purse and thrown it in his face. _There, now I'm not obligated anymore, am I?_ She'd thrown open the door and stumbled through the dark, trying not to cry. He drove after her, window down, yelling, _Get in the car. I'll take you home. Just get in the car_. She did, and he had, dropping her at the curb before her house without another word.

"And then?" she asked Eric. "Take me back here and then what?"

"Whatever you want. As little or as much as you want."

"As _little_ as I want? Really?"

"Look…Tami, I understand you're a virgin. I'm not expecting you to go all the way."

She closed her eyes. He thought she was a virgin because she'd said she hadn't gone all the way with Mo. He didn't know about her mistake at that party when she was 15. What would he think of it, she wondered?

"Are you mad at me?" he asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

She opened her eyes. "No, you didn't do anything wrong." He hadn't done anything she hadn't let him do, hadn't _wanted_ him to do.

"Do you even like me?" he asked.

"Of course I like you! _Obviously_ I like you! I just…." She sat back on the bed, pulled her knees up to her chin, and wrapped her arms around her legs. "Do you actually want to date me? I thought you wanted a casual thing."

"Tami, I thought _you_ wanted a casual thing. You told me not to tell _anyone_ we made out. I tried to talk to you at your locker the next day, and you hardly even looked at me. I thought we were going to have dinner together the next Sunday, and you'd already eaten. I lent you the camera to show you how much I like you, and you hardly said anything about it...I gave you that candy bar, and you didn't even say thank you. I figured all that meant you weren't interested in more than a physical fling. I thought you just wanted to do this to get over Mo. I wanted to date, but I didn't want give this up either. It...it's felt so good."

She laughed. "Really? I thought you were just interested in doing this for...release. Just to get over Laura."

"Nah, Tami, I really like you. I don't know how I could have been more obvious."

"Well, you could have _told_ me. That would have been more obvious." He wasn't quite as suave and as bold as she had imagined he was. There was hint of the shy boy in him yet. He was afraid of her rejection.

"You want to date me then?" he asked. "Because I really want to date you."

She smiled, happy and scared at the same time. "Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Tami decided to let herself be honest with him. Obviously playing games didn't work well. She'd never really been honest about her feelings with Mo, and that hadn't worked either, had it? Might as well give it a try. "I thought Mo loved me," she admitted, "and he cheated on me. I _really_ like you, Eric, and I don't want to end up falling for you, because I don't want to get my heart broken again, but I don't want to just keep fooling around with nothing else either."

He put an arm around her and pulled her close, until her head was leaned on his shoulder. "I want to spend time with you," he said, "outside of all this. I want to date you. For real." He kissed the top of her head. "I can't promise I won't break your heart. I don't know what's going to happen with us. But I _can_ promise you I won't cheat on you, that I'll never lie to you or sneak around on you, that if I ever feel like I need to move on, I'll be honest, upfront, and tell you that _before_ I move on to anyone else. I don't cheat. I never have. Not on tests, not in football, not on girls."

She raised her head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. "You make it sound like you want me to be your steady girlfriend."

"Honestly, Tami, I've never dated more than one girl at a time. Hell, I've never dated more than two girls period. I thought I'd keep seeing Laura, easy sex and all...but I couldn't. I couldn't do that knowing she was with other guys. And I don't like the idea of you making out with anyone else."

She smiled. "Okay," she said.

"Okay? You'll be my...uh...girl?"

Tami loved the old-fashioned way he said that, his _girl_ , instead of his _girlfriend_. She nodded.

"Even though I'm a football player?"

She laughed. "I probably shouldn't have ruled out an _entire_ category like that. I didn't know you existed when I said that. Well, I knew you _existed_. I didn't know what you were like."

"So you wanna go out Saturday night?" He smirked. "Whattaburger? I get free food."

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Hey...you know…I saw your dad when I was working at Chili's Thursday. He was on a date. With a woman."

"Glad it wasn't with a guy."

She shoved him playfully.

"Was she pretty?"

Tami nodded. "Very."

"Did she seem nice?"

"I couldn't really tell. She was polite to me. He _ordered_ for her."

"Yeah, well, that's my dad for you," Eric said. "He can be a little controlling at times. He always has me on a tight schedule during football season. He rides me hard. I can't get away with anything."

"He left a big tip. And he was generous with my mom," she said. "He did a bunch of handyman wok for her for real cheap, because she couldn't afford it."

"Yeah, well, that's also my dad for you."

The house creaked.

"Was that the kitchen door?" Tami asked.

Eric leaped out of bed and yanked open a dresser drawer. She admired his backside - he wasn't wearing any underwear - as he pulled off his pants and pulled on a fresh pair of boxers and jeans. He put his shirt back on as she finished straightening her own clothes. He opened the door and looked down the hall. "Coast is clear."

Tami finished putting on her boots and crept out after him.

They walked cautiously down the hall. The light was on in the kitchen, but nowhere else. They strolled casually inside. Mr. Taylor was standing behind the counter, drinking a beer.

"Hey, Dad," Eric said.

"Hey."

"We were just watching some TV."

"Uh-huh." He put his beer on the counter. "I need you to help me out on a project Saturday evening. I need someone to hold a ladder for me."

"I was going to take Tami out Saturday. It's the only evening she's not working. Except Sunday. And she needs to study on Sundays."

Mr. Taylor looked from Tami to Eric. "So you two are officially dating now?"

"Yes, sir," Eric said.

Mr. Taylor nodded. "That's better."

 _Better than what?_ Tami wondered. Did he know what they'd been up to? She blushed to think he might have figured it out. He may even think they'd gone farther than they had.

Perhaps to distract him from what they'd been up to, Eric asked, "How did the emergency repair go, Dad?"

Mr. Taylor spoke through a thinly veiled smile. "It went well because my number one priority is customer satisfaction." He put a hand on his son's hair, which was already a wild mess from Tami's gripping it, and ruffled the strands still further, like a father might do with his five-year-old boy. It was a surprising act of affection Tami would not have expected of such a muscular, old-school man. "Remember that, Eric. Always keep the customer satisfied, even if it means going out of your way."

He plucked his beer off the counter, sipped, and walked from the kitchen.


	21. February 8 - 11

**[Monday, February 8]**

Eric stole a kiss at the library between homework problems.

"You better go back to the other side of the table," Tami told him, "Or I'm not going to learn anything."

Reluctantly, he stood and crossed over to the other side.

Another tutor and student sat down at the table next to them. That should keep them somewhat focused, Tami thought. But she didn't get back on the topic of math right away herself. "Where do you want to go Saturday night?" she asked.

"Wherever you want."

"Movies?" she asked.

"Nah," he said. "Movies aren't good for first dates. You can't talk to each other."

Mo had taken her to the movies on their first date because, he said, "The movies are a great place to kiss in the dark." They hadn't talked much, now that she thought about it. Not just on their first date, but on all of their dates - there had been a lot of small talk, a lot about teachers and football and the next party, but nothing like the personal life conversations she'd _already_ had with Eric - nothing about her interest in photography, or their past relationships, or their family lives. How had she not noticed before how shallow her conversations were with Mo?

"I thought dinner," Eric said. "I'd plan a picnic, but, uh...February."

She laughed. "I like Italian," she said.

"I hear Chili's has good Italian." She frowned at him. He laughed. "Nah, I know a good Italian place," he said. "I might even be able to get us ten percent off, because my dad helped the owner with some repairs. I mean...not that you aren't worth full price." He flushed and then hastened, "I mean, not that I'm suggesting you're for sale! That's not how I meant it. I - "

"- It's okay. Let's go to your Italian place." She tapped her book with her pencil. "But now let's get down to this."

 **[Tuesday, February 9]**

Tami found herself behind Joey and Eric again, this time in the bleachers at the basketball pep rally. There was going to be a home game tonight, and so every class had been shortened nine minutes for the end-of-day rally. The stands were usually filled for the football pep rallies, but only about half the school turned out for the basketball ones. The rest had skipped home early.

There was a problem with the sound system, and they were just waiting for the rally to start now. There was no sitting with your class at a pep rally, so she _could_ alert them to her presence and scoot down next to Eric at any time.

"Got my hot date with Sarah this Saturday," Joey said.

"I've got a hot date with Tami," Eric said.

"Yeah? You finally asked her out?"

"We might have been developing a relationship during our tutoring sessions."

"Developing?" Joey asked. "Like…developing how?" He laughed. "What were you _really_ tutoring her in, huh?" Joey said in a mock, soulful voice, "Eric Taylor's school of love."

Eric laughed. "Something like that."

"Yeah. How far have you guys gotten? You past 1st base yet?"

Tami really couldn't admit she was behind them now. She was good and stuck. She'd just have to keep listening.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell, Joey."

"I never mistook you for a gentleman."

"What base do you think you'll get to with Sarah on Saturday?" Eric asked.

Tami was relieved he'd switched the subject instead of sharing. Not that she hadn't shared a thing or two with Sarah...but she was pleased Eric had kept her confidence. Mo had bragged about things they'd never done. Eric didn't even brag about what they had done.

"I think I'm going to be stuck in the dug out all night," Joey said. "She wants the free tickets, and she'll suffer through a night with me for a chance to see Aerosmith, but I doubt I'm even getting a kiss at the end of the night."

"Aww…don't sell yourself short. That's an hour and a half drive to Dallas. You'll charm her all the way there with your scintillating conversation."

"Scintillating, huh? What did you get on the verbal portion of the S.A.T?"

"I don't remember, but I'm sure it wasn't _commensurate_ with whatever Sarah got."

"Seriously, man, why isn't she into me? I've been trying to get her to go out with me for a year. I'm a smart guy. I'm a nice guy. Is it because I'm so big?"

"Probably," Eric said.

"Thanks, man. That's a real friend."

"Hey, what can I say? Girls are shallow."

"Yeah. But you're not, right?" Joey said. "Your interest in Tami has nothing to do with the fact that she's the second hottest girl in school."

"Second?"

"Well, Sarah's my number one. You know that."

"It's more than just that," Eric insisted. "Tami….I….I don't know."

"Damn, man! You're _smiling!_ Look at that smile!"

The sound system crackled to life. Tami, feeling guilty for eavesdropping, got up quietly, shuffled down the bleachers a bit, and then stepped down so she could appear to be walking up their row. "Hey, boys," she called as she walked to them. "Saw you sitting up here. Mind if I join you?"

Joey scooted over so that she could sit between them. Eric smiled. He draped an arm around her shoulders as the rally geared up.

 **[Wednesday, February 10]**

Tami giggled and pulled away from Eric's kiss. They were both leaned across the library table. "Eric, c'mon, I really do need you to tutor me. And you're getting volunteer credit for this."

He smiled. "I don't need any more community service hours. And I'd volunteer for this anytime."

She looked to her left. Another two people had just sat down at the tutoring table one over. "No more kissing," she insisted. "I need help with my homework."

"A'ight."

She smiled.

He smiled.

She laughed.

He laughed.

Tami hadn't felt like this in a long time. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt _quite_ like this. "I need to do well on Monday's test."

"I know." He pointed to a problem in her book. "Work this one." He lowered his voice. "Work it _slowly_."

She laughed. " _Stop it_!"

He chuckled. "You're so pretty."

"Eric, I can't fail this test."

"Okay. I'll be good. If you give me just one more kiss first."

She looked to her left, where the other couple was working. She quickly leaned across the table and kissed him briefly. She looked back at the book. "Now tell me how to do this."

"I'll tell you," he said, his voice deep, the southern drawl stronger than usual, "I'll guide you step by step by step, until you _come_ to a conclusion."

She balled up the untouched sheet of notebook paper she had planned to use for her homework and threw it in his face.

 **[Thursday, February 11]**

When Tami got home from her shift at Chili's, she settled next to her mom on the couch. Shelley was in the rocking chair again. Tami wondered if that was her way of holding onto their dad, always sitting in his chair. She'd been barely nine when he died. Tami's little sister was reading yet another V.C. Andrews book. Shelley read a lot. It wasn't precisely Shakespeare, but it was book after book. At least one Hayes girl would make it to a four-year college, Tami thought.

She waited until the ten o'clock news was over to tell her Mom that Eric wanted to take her out Saturday night. She'd been putting off this fight, but it was time.

"Who is Eric?" her mom asked.

"The handyman's son," Shelley told her.

"Mr. Taylor?" Mom asked, and Tami nodded. "Well, Mr. Taylor was quite the gentleman. I suppose if his son is anything like him…well, I suppose that would be all right, but of course he has to pick you up here, and come in and talk to me, and bring you back by curfew."

"Mom, I'm 18. I'm legally an adult. Aren't I getting a little _old_ for a curfew?"

"Tami, as long as you are living in _my_ house, you live by _my_ – "

"- Fine," Tami said. "He'll have me back by curfew." Mom wasn't resisting the idea of a date. Tami supposed she should let the curfew slide. Besides, Eric was picking her up in the early evening. They'd have hours together.

Tami smiled at the thought.


	22. Saturday, February 13

**[Saturday, February 13]**

"You have a lot of reading assignments," Mrs. Hernandez told Tami.

She'd read her some Romantic poetry today.

"I know. I have the hardest English teacher ever. You'd think it was an AP class, not a general English class."

"She walks in beauty like the night…" Mrs. Hernandez murmured. "My husband used to recite that one to me. Byron." She sighed. "What a rake. I'd take a shot at him, though."

Tami laughed.

"And John Donne. He read me John Donne. The one where he's seducing his mistress, and he talks about his erection. Did you have to read that poem in school?"

"I…uh….I don't think so."

"A priest talking about his erection." Mrs. Hernandez shook her head. "Does your football player write you poetry?"

Tami laughed. "Eric? God no. I don't think he'd ever write me poetry. And tonight is our first official date."

"Well make sure you wear something that shows off your chest. Can't go wrong with that. Men have two heads, you know, but they only think with one."

"Eric…Eric can be sweet."

"Well, I didn't say they didn't also have _hearts_. They do. And egos. Don't forget the ego, dearie."

 **[FNL]**

Tami quickly finished touching up her makeup when the doorbell rang. She didn't want Eric subjected to her mother for long. He was sitting on the living room couch when she came in, smiling uneasily. He looked up, and the uncomfortable smile turned into a grin. "You look really pretty," he said.

She'd put on a winter dress, long-sleeved, below the knees, but flattering. It wasn't overly low-cut, but it did emphasize her breasts nonetheless. Mrs. Hernandez knew a thing or two.

"You look nice, too," she said. He had on a pair of khakis, a light blue button down shirt, and dark cowboy boots.

"Tami's curfew is 10:30 PM," Mrs. Hayes said. "I don't abide lateness."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I hope you're as polite and considerate as your father."

"I aim to be, ma'am."

Eric took Tami to an Italian restaurant with white tablecloths. He pulled out her chair and he held her hand across the table, just like he had said he would.

"Think Joey has any chance of at least scoring a kiss with Sarah tonight?" Eric asked her.

"I think she likes him objectively. She respects him. He's got all the qualities she wants in a guy, but there's just no chemistry there."

"Nice guys always finish last." Eric let go of her hand and sipped his water.

"Aren't you a nice guy?"

He smiled. "I don't know about that. I can be bad. Very, very bad."

She laughed. "I _finally_ got the last test back yesterday. I got an 86. I think I may end up with a B this quarter!"

"You thinking about college at all?" he asked.

"Eric, if I'm _lucky_ , and I get all As and Bs this quarter and next, I'll maybe have a 2.5 cumulative GPA. No one is going to admit me."

"So go to an open admission community college. Study really hard and get a kick-ass GPA your first two years. Then transfer to a real college."

"Like Baylor?" she asked, and then wished she hadn't been so presumptuous.

"I hear they have really good-looking football players."

Relieved, she smiled. "If I did make it to a four-year, I'd have to go public. No one is giving me a full ride."

"I'll give you a full ride," he said.

She rolled her eyes, but she laughed. When the check came, she insisted on paying half, over his protests.

When they were at the car, he said, "So what do you want to do now? Still an hour and a half until your curfew."

She wanted to dry hump him again. She wanted his hands all over her chest, his mouth on her mouth, his hardness pressed against her. But she also wanted to know she was more than that to him. "Maybe we could go out for coffee and talk some more."

She could tell he was hiding his disappointment, but at least he bothered to hide it. "A'ight. There's a nice local shop at that historic downtown area. We could take a walk, too."

They strolled hand in hand along the sidewalk, glancing in shop windows. Most of the places were closed, if they didn't serve food. 8 PM seemed to be the cut off. But there were pink and white lights strewn from the lampposts for Valentine's, and Eric's hand was strong and warm as it clasped hers. Their breath fell in light clouds on the air, and she kept her other hand tucked in her pocket for warmth. It felt good when they got to the coffee shop, and she could wrap her hands around a warm mug of hot cocoa. He'd chosen decaf coffee.

The place was surprisingly uncrowded, and they were in a far, quiet corner.

"I need to tell you something," she said. She didn't think it was fair to let him continue to assume she was a virgin, and she wanted to get this off her chest. She dreaded sharing this information so early in the relationship, but if it was going to disappoint him and make him not want to be with her, better now than later.

"What's that?"

She told him about how she had lost her virginity.

He swallowed and looked to his left, down the hall that led to the bathrooms.

"Are you thinking what a slut I am?"

"No," he said. "I'm thinking what a jerk that guy was." He looked back at her. "It's one thing to have sex with a girl when she knows that's all it is, when you both agree that's all it's going to be. It's another to tell her you really like her, to lie to her, and…" He shook his head. "That's just deceitful."

"You aren't dissapointed in me?"

He didn't say yes or no. Instead, he sighed. "It must have been hard for you," he said finally, "losing your dad a few years before. Finding yourself suddenly poor. Not having anything really to cling to. And this guy, pretending to care..." He shrugged. "And I guess you learned from that, since you took it slower with Mo and never even...you know. Went all the way."

"Yeah. Not that _that_ worked either."

"Well at least you didn't have to regret..." He looked down and his cup and laughed. "I don't think I'm helping my own chances here."

She smiled. "You're helping them more than you know."

Eric looked up at her. "That guy Paul was a jerk, Tami. If he were still around Tyler..." He shook his head.

"I was a fool to believe it meant anything to him. I should have gotten to know him first. I take responsibility for my choice there. Yeah, he's a jerk, but I had the total power to prevent that. And, you're right, that's why I decided not to go all the way with Mo after that. And I probably won't again until I'm in a _very_ serious relationship. Maybe even ready to get married serious." She wondered how he would take that. Better he know that now too, so he could end the relationship if that was a no-go for him. He'd been having sex with Laura, after all.

He didn't say anything.

"When did you lose your virginity?" she asked. "Was it the Whattaburger girl?"

"No. We never went that far. It was Laura. The summer before she went to college. The summer before my junior year."

"Oh." Tami looked into her hot chocolate, the last dark remnant at the bottom of the cup. She hadn't expected that, hadn't expected she'd been even younger than him when she lost her virginity, or that he too had only had sex with one other person, or that he'd waited an entire school year for Laura.

"I thought we might end up married one day," he admitted. "I loved her. I tried so hard to maintain that relationship. I was at UNT almost every weekend. My dad said it really is a big age difference, at that age. I didn't think so, 'cause…" He shrugged. "I don't know. I thought I was pretty mature, for a high school guy."

"I think you're pretty mature."

"I wonder if she found someone else first. I wonder if she'd been dating him for a while before she told me we should see other people." He gritted his teeth. "I missed out on so much of high school, because I was always trying to be with her in her world. I didn't even go to junior prom." He swallowed. "And I don't know…" He shook his head. "I don't even know when she stopped wanting – really wanting – to be with me. I don't know how long I was living a lie."

Tami's eyes were feeling a bit damp now. "That's how I felt with Mo. At first I was cautious with him because I was burned by Paul, but then I really started ot believe he loved me, that what we had was real. So when I learned he was cheating…it kind of turned my world upside down. Do you know when he started cheating?"

"Tami, I can't tell you that."

"You mean you don't know, or you can't tell me?"

"I mean don't ask me. Please."

"Okay. I won't." She pushed her cup to the side. "Are we both just rebounding?" she asked. "Should we be doing this? Is this a bad idea?"

"Say we _are_ just rebounding," he said. "So what? I mean, is it helping you? Because it's helping me."

She smiled. "Yeah. It's helping me. But I don't want….I don't want to fall for you, and then go through with you what I went through with Mo."

"I don't cheat, Tami."

"I believe you. But what Laura did…let's say she _wasn't_ seeing anyone before she came to you and said she wanted to see other guys – did that hurt any less?"

"I don't know. It hurt a lot."

"Maybe we should just be friends."

"No," he said. "I don't want that."

"Maybe it's safer that way. That way we don't risk – "

"- No. I _can't_ , Tami. I _can't_ just be friends with you."

"Why not?"

"It's too late," he said. "It's too late for me not to risk anything. I think I'm already half in love with you. It didn't start out that way. I was being a bit of a jerk the first time we made out. I was mad, and I guess I was using you to feel better."

"I know."

"But…that changed. I don't know when exactly. I know we're both on the rebound, but you can catch the ball on the rebound and make a good shot, can't you?"

Happy and feeling affectionate, she laughed.

"Sorry. Bad metaphor. All I mean is…please give me a chance. Date me."

"Why?" she asked. "I mean…why do you think you're..." she smiled, " _half_ in love with me?" She thought Mo had been _whole_ in love with her, but he hadn't been. She wasn't sure why Eric would feel that way.

"You're not catty, like some of the girls I know. And you're strong, I mean, you lost your dad and you really stepped up, worked hard, helped out your mom. And you're not afraid to admit when you're wrong, like you did when you decided to do those volunteer hours after all. And you're gorgeous." He laughed. "You're so pretty. But you know that. But I don't think you know how smart you are. You're smarter than you think. Really smart, in a different way than most people. And you make me laugh. I want to be your boyfriend. Be my girlfriend? Please?"

"Okay," she whispered.

"Okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

He leaned across the table and kissed her.

 **[FNL]**

Her mother scolded her for coming in a half hour past curfew.

Mrs. Hayes threatened not to let her go out with Eric again.

Tami didn't care. She was walking on clouds. Let her mother try to stop her from seeing the boy who was half in love with her.


	23. Sunday, February 14 - 18

**[Sunday, February 14]**

Tami's mother, despite her previous night's anger, did not forbid Tami from attending her Sunday tutoring session. "Your Algebra II grade _is_ improving," Mrs. Hayes admitted. "A lot. And Mr. Taylor will be there, right?"

"Of course," Tami lied.

Mr. Taylor, however, went to his girlfriend's house that night, for another "emergency repair." He said he didn't expect to return until 11 PM, and Tami had a 10:30 curfew anyway.

Eric made Tami dinner. He lit candles. He left a red rose on her plate. He'd tried to cook something fancy, but he burned the asparagus, and he cooked the chicken too long. They ordered pizza.

"Sorry I screwed up your Valentine's Day," he said.

"You didn't. I'm having fun. And this is really good pizza. It looks kind of fancy by candlelight."

When they were done eating, she said, "I know this is a date, but could you also tutor me, just for a while? I really do want to do well on Monday's test."

"She's still giving a test this Monday? The day after Valentine's?"

"I told you she was a hard ass."

They worked on Algebra for about thirty minutes. When they were done, she smiled. "So…what would you like in payment?"

She expected him to ask for a blowjob, and, if he did, she would have to bargain him down. She wasn't ready for that level of intimacy. She knew there were girls (coupon girl came to mind) who didn't see that as particularly intimate, but Tami thought there was a real vulnerability in it. It had been a long while before she'd given into Mo's pleas for one.

"How about we just make out in my bed – with our clothes on - and see where it goes?" he asked. "No time limit."

"You know I'm not having sex, right?" she asked. "And that includes oral."

"A'ight. Let's just see where it goes."

She laughed. "I'm just saying, it's _not_ going there."

"I hear you, Tami." He held out his hand to her. "I respect you."

She smiled. She didn't know why those three little words made her heart swell. _I respect you._ Maybe she'd needed to hear that _more_ than I love you.

She took his hand, stood, and followed him to his room.

For a long while they just kissed, caressing each other through their clothes, but eventually he slid off her shirt and removed her bra. After he'd ministered to her breasts with his mouth and tongue and hands, she tugged at his shirt, and he yanked it over his head and threw it to the floor. She pushed him gently onto his back, and for the first time now explored his chest with her lips. He ran a hand lazily up and down her spine as she did so. She kissed his naval and peeked at the bulge in his jeans. She kissed her way back up to his lips.

He rolled to his side and deepened the kiss, trailing a hand down from her neck to the top of her jeans. There was a break in the kissing, a sigh, and then a surprisingly loud snap, followed by a rasp. He'd undone her pants.

Where was he going wit this? "Eric - "

"I just want to put my hand inside. Touch you. Can I?" he asked.

"Inside the jeans," she told him. "Not the underwear."

She gasped at his touch and ground against his hand. Their mouths met again. She moved for at time, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more. She reached down, took his hand, and slid it inside her panties.

"Yeah," he whispered. "That's better." He began to play with her, his fingers working intimately. "Isn't this better?"

"Yes," she said, looking in his eyes and moving her hips in timing with his hand.

"Is this where you like to be touched?" he asked. "Right….here."

"Oh God!" She bit her bottom lip and whimpered.

He kissed her bare shoulder. "Like this, Tami?"

Heat like a wave flowed through her body.

"And this?"

She whimpered.

"You know how I know you like that?" He kissed her ear and whispered. "Because you're so very, very wet."

She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the feeling of his fingers, lifting her hips from the bed and jerking them harder and harder until he caught her final cry with a kiss. When the waves had crashed over her, one after the other, he kept touching her. She was suddenly so sensitive, now that she had reached her peak and spilled over it. She pushed his hand away.

He smiled teasingly. "Was that good?" he asked, his hand now on her hip, outside her jeans.

She nodded and smiled.

"It sounded like you enjoyed it."

"I did," she said. She re-snapped her jeans and pulled up her zipper.

She ran her hand down that trail of hair on his chest, until her fingers were resting on the top button of his jeans. She unsnapped it and then unzipped. She unfastened the button on the flap of his boxers and took him in her hand.

"God, yes," he said. "There's some KY in my nightstand."

She let go of him, rolled over, and searched through the drawer. He had a box of unopened condoms in there, a paperback book, a bunch of loose change, and a dog-eared _Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue_. She pretended not to see it. At least it was a lot tamer than the _Hustler_ she'd once found under Mo's pillow. She located the KY and squirted some into her hand, and when she rolled back, she took him into her hand. He closed his eyes and hissed.

"Damn, Tami," he said. "Yes."

He kissed her as she stroked him, and from time to time, he pulled away from her lips to murmur his approval or direction: "Just the tip. Circle it. Yeah. Like that."; "Oh yes, so good"; "Up the shaft now, babe"; "I love your touch"; "Yeah, stroke it just like that"; "God, yes, perfect."

Toward the end, he stopped talking all together and kissed her passionately, his kisses deepening as her strokes increased, until he groaned and shuddered.

When his breath had finally leveled, he whispered into her ear, "I love you."

"Half?" she asked.

He chuckled against her cheek. "At least three quarters."

 **[Thursday, February 18]**

When Tami opened her locker, there were a page ripped from a magazine sitting on top of her books. She looked over it. The page contained information about a "youth sports photography contest" and an entry form. The prizes were $2,000, $1,000, and $500 in scholarship money, to be used at any institution of higher learning. On the top, Eric had written, "You could win this thing" and drawn a smiley face.

She smiled and then gasped when she felt lips on the back of her head.

She turned to find Eric standing behind her. She draped her arms around him, the magazine page still in her hands. She kissed him and then asked, "How did you get in my locker?"

"Those combinations are easy to crack. You just listen for the click."

"Good thing I can trust you, I guess." She smiled. "I can trust you, right?"

"Absolutely." He kissed her again. "You going to enter the contest?"

"Where did you even find this?"

"In a youth sports magazine I read."

"I've never taken sports photos before."

"So start. We'll go to the basketball game together next Tuesday night. You can snap away."

She smiled. "Maybe I will."

He pushed her back against her locker. Tami laughed, low and sultry, as Eric leaned in. They kissed softly, their lips smacking lightly.

The last warning bell rang. The hallway traffic thinned out. They should really be heading to 6th period.

"What the hell, Taylor?"

Eric stood straight and turned. Tami, with her back to the cool metal of her locker, saw Mo. A few students trickled up and down the hallway behind him.

"So you're the one who told her!" Mo shouted.

"Told her what?" Eric asked.

"You _know_ what! You stole my girlfriend from me!"

Eric just laughed and shook his head.

"You think this is funny?" Mo said. "Breaking the code?"

"What code?" Eric asked.

"The codes that says football brothers don't steal each other's girlfriends!"

"Look, Mo, I'm not an _object_ to be _stolen_ ," Tami insisted. "I broke up with you because you cheated on me."

"Which Eric told you! So he could get in your pants, obviously!"

"That's ridiculous. Eric didn't tell me. Eric didn't _have_ to tell me."

"You're a goddamn traitor, Taylor! You broke the code!"

"I don't think there's any code that says we can't date each other's _ex_ -girlfriends. Boone is dating Tanya. Juan is dating Jenny."

"Yeah, because Jackson _broke up_ with Tanya. And Jimmy _broke up_ with Jenny. But Tami _broke up_ with me. You can't date her. And sure as hell can't _get her_ to break up with me just so you _can_ date her."

Eric took two steps forward. "Oh, _I_ got her to do that, did I? Had nothing to do with you dipping your wick in another girl's -"

Mo hit Eric's shoulders hard with two hands and slammed him back against the lockers. There was a loud clang. As soon as Mo dropped his hands, Eric body slammed him, pushing him all the way across the hall and into the wall.

"Stop it, y'all!" Tami shouted.

The hall had been relatively unpopulated before, but now kids were pouring down a nearby stairwell, running from both ends of the hall, even spilling out of a classroom to watch.

Mo pushed against Eric and wriggled free. He took a swing and hit him in the nose.

"Stop!" Tami shouted when she saw the blood spurt from Eric's nose.

Students chanted, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

From the other end of the hall, the principal came jogging down.

Eric wiped the back of his hand beneath his nose and then balled his bloody hand into a fist. He punched Mo straight in the face. There was a thud, and Mo's head jerked back. That was going to leave a black eye.

By now, the principal had reached them. "Break it up! Break it up!"

Eric lowered his fists, which he'd raised again, and stepped back. He walked a few feet away and leaned with one hand against the wall, as though to show his compliance.

The principal, a large, bald, good ol' southern boy who looked like he'd been well fed on biscuits and gravy, held Mo back with the flat of his hand. "Get back to class!" he shouted to the spectators lingering in the halls. The students began to disperse. "In my office, boys!" He shouted. "Now!"


	24. February 19 (Fri) - 20 (Sat)

**[Friday, February 19]**

"So I'm grounded for a week," Eric told Tami at lunch.

They were sitting next to each other at the cafeteria table. Across from Eric was Joey, and across from Tami was Sarah. Joey hadn't scored more than a kiss on the cheek after the Aerosmith concert, but Sarah had agreed to go on a "real" date with him tomorrow.

"Are you going to get suspended?" Joey asked. Fighting usually entailed an automatic, two-day suspension. "What about the behavior clause in your scholarship offer?"

"No suspension," Eric answered. "The principal just called our fathers. He doesn't want either of us to jeopardize our scholarships."

"Lucky you," Sarah said. "If I got in a fight, no one would care about my scholarship." Sarah had applied early decision to UT-Austin, and she'd been admitted with the offer of a 50% tuition waiver.

"I sent in my application to UT-Austin last week," Joey told her. "So we might be going to the same college."

"I'll await the answer with baited breath," Sarah said slightly sarcastically, though she did smile at him.

"Grounded?" Tami asked. "What does that mean? What about our date Saturday?"

Eric shook his head. "Sorry."

"What about our tutoring session on Sunday?"

Sarah snorted.

"My Dad said you can come over earlier for tutoring if you want. Not _tutoring_ , but tutoring."

Sarah chortled. Tami shot her an irritated look. Eric didn't know how much Tami had told her, and Tami didn't want Eric to know. She knew it was a double standard that she shared details of their love life and yet didn't want him to.

Eric ignored Sarah, however. "He said you can come from 12:30 to 2:30, have lunch with us, and I can tutor you. But he'll be there the entire time. Keeping an eye on us."

"Oooh..." Joey said. "That's bad. Mr. Taylor scares me."

"He doesn't seem scary to me," Sarah said.

"When have you ever seen him?" Joey asked. "At the games?"

"I also waited on him at Chili's twice last year," Sarah said. "He's a big tipper."

"Yeah, well, you should see him when he catches you with his scotch," Joey said. "He came home early and found me and Eric drinking it once."

Tami turned to Eric. "I thought you were allowed to drink."

"Not Dad's scotch."

Joey shook his head. "We don't hang out at Eric's house anymore."

"You're welcome to, though," Eric said. "It's not like he kicked you out."

"No, it's more like he made me mow his lawn with a _manual_ mower _while_ I was buzzed. I could have cut off my toes."

"He wouldn't have let you cut off your toes. He'd have stopped you. And he offered to just tell your dad instead."

"My dad _would_ have cut off my toes."

Tami was only half listening to this exchange. She was thinking about how much she had been looking forward to going to see _She's Having a Baby_. She'd talked Eric into seeing a romantic comedy with her. That was an _accomplishment_. And now that opportunity was gone. "Damn it, Eric," she said. "I wanted to go see that movie Saturday. Why did you have to go and fight Mo?"

"Uh…because he shoved me against the lockers?"

"Yeah, Tami," Sarah said, "A guy kind of _has_ to fight in that situation."

"See," Eric said, "The valedictorian agrees with me."

"Actually, she may not be valedictorian," Joey said. "I might be. We're neck and neck in the class rankings right now."

"If you were a gentleman," Sarah told Joey, "You'd settle for a B+ in Calculus this year."

"Fine," Tami said. "Fine. You had to fight. I just…I didn't like it." She pouted. "Your poor nose." She draped her arms around his neck and leaned in and kissed his nose.

"You can go to the movie with us Saturday," Sarah said.

"Uh..." Joey looked displeased by that offer.

"No," Tami said. "Y'all are going on a date."

Sarah gave Tami a pleading look, as though to say, _join us, join us! Please! He won't try to make a move if you're there!_

"I'll just see if I can pick up an extra shift at Chili's Saturday night instead," Tami said. "I've been 18 since the fall. The state can't limit my hours to thirty a week during the school year anymore."

"Since the fall?" Joey asked. "The cut-off was September 1. That's why Eric's 18. He's a late December baby. Shouldn't you be 17?"

"I got held back," Tami said. "6th grade. My dad died that year. I missed a lot of school."

"Well now I feel like an ass," Joey said.

Eric scooted his chair closer to her and put a comforting arm around her.

"So, Tami," Sarah said, obviously attempting to lighten the mood, "you're dating a _younger_ guy, huh?"

"Well, Eric _only_ dates older girls," she said.

"Nah," Eric said. "That's not true. I'd absolutely date a younger girl."

"Really?" Tami asked. "And when do you plan to do that?"

"Well...uh..."

"When he's forty-five," Joey said. "And he's squandered his NFL fortune, he's going to start chasing 25 year olds to recapture his former glory."

Tami laughed. Forty-five sounded old to her. That was a half decade older even than her mother. She had no idea that there actually would be twenty-five-year old women who would one day comment, _Hey, Julie, your Dad is kind of_ _hot_.

Eric smiled, leaned in, and kissed her.

"Really, man, the PDA..." Joey said, "you've got to cool it. You didn't do that with Laura."

"Laura was in college," Sarah reminded him. "You never saw them together."

"Of course I did. His sophomore year. We were friends then too, you know. Eric and I go way, way back. To 7th grade. I stood up for him back then."

Eric slid away from Tami and took his last sip of milk.

"Why would _you_ need to stand up for _him_?" Sarah asked.

"Because I was popular back then, and he wasn't," Joey insisted. "He was pretty good at football but he was a social screw-up. Couldn't talk to girls. Kept to himself. Had the worst haircut. Always had his nose in a book."

Tami laughed. "Really?"

"Usually a sports biography," Eric said defensively.

"But I helped make a man out of him," Joey said. "So you can thank me, Tami."

"Thank you, Joey," Tami said, and smiled teasingly at Eric.

"He's full of it," Eric said. "I was as suave as suave can be."

Joey laughed, his whole, big body shaking with the sound.

"Actually, you still kind of keep to yourself," Sarah said. "And you still don't talk all that much."

Tami covered her mouth to hide her laugh. He sure did talk when they were fooling around.

"I do not keep to myself," Eric insisted. "I'm a social butterfly."

"Yeah?" Sarah asked, chuckling. "Name your friends. The guys you hang out with on a regular basis."

"I hang out with Joey all the time."

"And?" Sarah asked.

"And Joey. And Joey. He's like three people in one body."

Joey laughed. "Screw you."

"And John sometimes." John was the punter. "And Mark." Mark was a linebacker. "We go out to the DQ every Thursday night, the four of us."

"We turn heads," Joey said. "Melt hearts."

"When was the last time you went to a football party?" Sarah asked Eric.

"I went to a bunch of the football parties when I was a freshman and a sophomore." Eric ate a french fry. "But I was at UNT every weekend my junior and senior seasons."

Tami wondered what he was like at those parties, which were before her time of hanging out with the team. She still had yet to see Eric drunk. Or wild. She couldn't imagine him doing what Mo had done, climbing on top of a dining room table and drawing Tami up there to dance with him, or jumping with all of his clothes into the pool and insisting everyone come in and play Marco Polo with him, or organizing an impressive and hilarious party-wide game of truth or dare.

Mo had been a barrel of fun. Tami had to give him that much. She could see why he had always been more popular than Eric, and part of her missed that high energy of Mo's. Sometimes, Eric seemed like a man trapped in a teenage boy's body. At this stage in her life, though, she needed and wanted a man. She was done with boys. And Eric _could_ make her laugh. He would never win any awards for "most uninhibited," though, that was for sure. But maybe she'd spent so many years looking for _fun_ , that she'd forgotten to look for loyal, responsible, dependable, and devoted.

"And I went with Laura to a bunch of her sorority parties," Eric said. "Plenty of frat boys there. No one on the Tyler Tigers has anything on their chugging ability."

"And you fit in there?" Sarah asked. "You were pals with everyone?"

"What's with the third degree? No, okay. You want to know the truth?" Eric asked. "I drank to make them interesting."

Sarah laughed.

"Most people bore me," Eric admitted. "I try to fit in, but I get bored. Or annoyed. One or the other. What does that say about me?"

"It says you belong here with us," Sarah said. "Eric Taylor," she said, sweeping her hand across the surface of the cafeteria table where they all sat, "Welcome, finally, to the geek table."

Joey looked at Tami. "Well, what about..."

"Oh," Sarah said, "we just let her sit here because she's so damn good-looking."

Eric chuckled.

 **[Saturday, February 20]**

"So tomorrow is meet the parents day," Mrs. Hernandez said. "This relationship is moving _**fast**_ , dearie."

"No," Tami insisted, as she brushed the old woman's hair. "Mr. Taylor is just going to be there because Eric is grounded."

"Uh-huh. I think this Mr. Taylor wants to get to know his son's girlfriend, that's what I think. What father isn't proud when his son holds his own in a fight?"

"No," Tami said, "he was mad at Eric for possibly jeopardizing his football scholarship."

"I used to play football," Mrs. Hernandez said.

Tami laughed.

"No, really I did. I pretended to be a boy in 9th grade so I could get on the team. They made a movie about me."

Tami ran the brush through the woman's, long gray hair. "Someone _should_ make a movie about you," she said. As she continued to style the old woman's hair, she began to feel a bit nervous about her upcoming luncheon date at the Taylors.


	25. Sunday, February 21

**[Sunday, February 21]**

"You like breakfast for lunch, lady?" Mr. Taylor asked Tami the moment Eric opened the kitchen door.

She stepped into the breakfast nook. The man was at the stove, frying bacon. He also had an electric griddle plugged in on the counter, and there was pancake batter bubbling on it. Mr. Taylor was actually wearing an apron. The man Tami was used to seeing in a heavy, masculine tool belt had a white apron tied around his front.

"Sure. I love breakfast for lunch," she said.

"You want blueberries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?" Mr. Taylor asked her. He took a sip of what looked to be a mimosa and then set it back down on the counter.

"I can't have both?" she asked.

Mr. Taylor laughed. "Watch this one, Eric. She's going to be a lot of work. Then again, you get what you pay for."

Eric smiled apologetically at her. She smiled back and shrugged.

"Flip those pancakes, son." Eric walked over to the griddle and began flipping them. "And put the blueberries and the chocolate chips in that uncooked side, Eric, quick! Give your girl what she wants! Always give your girl what she wants."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Taylor slid the bacon on top of a paper towel on a plate and wiped his hands on his apron. He drained the rest of his flute. He walked over the refrigerator, opened it, and pulled out a bottle of orange juice and a half empty bottle of what looked to be champagne. "You like mimosas, Tami?"

"Uh…" Should she remind him she was underage for drinking? She knew he let Eric drink beer, and he was entitled to in his own house, but she wasn't his daughter. She didn't think it was actually legal in this situation. "Sure. I love mimosas."

"It's just cheap sparkling white wine," he said, popping the bottle open, "but who can tell with the orange juice anyway?" He pulled down another flute from a cabinet and filled it half full with sparkling wine and half full with orange juice. Then he made another one for himself. He handed the fresh flute to Tami and took his in his own hand. He raised his glass to her, "To your steady progress in Algebra II."

Tami smiled and clinked his glass. "Thank you," she said before she sipped, somewhat surprised he even remembered what Eric was tutoring her in.

Tami didn't drink much. She didn't need to be buzzed to have a good time, and she sometimes wondered how much alcohol had contributed to her poor decision to have sex with Paul. She had been Mo's designated driver for the bulk of their relationship. She was going to have to pace herself with this mimosa.

"Hey, where's mine?" Eric asked.

"You're grounded, son. You don't get a mimosa. And I have a long list of chores for you to accomplish after your tutoring session. A _long_ list."

"That's not fair," Eric grumbled.

"Son, I believe what you _intended_ to say was, Yes, sir. Thank you, sir, for your leniency. I deserve worse."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir, for your leniency. I deserve a thrashing."

"Don't get mouthy with me, it'll be two weeks."

"It's just," Eric protested, "I didn't start it. I didn't start the fight. _You_ always told me, _don't start, finish._ "

"You want to argue with me? You want to go for three weeks?"

"No, sir. Wait. Does that mean I'm up to two weeks?"

"No. Not yet. Set the table."

Eric complied. Mr. Taylor drained his mimosa while his son was putting the plates on. He put the glass down on the counter, took off his apron, balled it up, and set it on the counter top before fixing himself yet another mimosa. "You ready for a second?" he asked Tami.

"No, sir," she said. She'd only taken two sips of the first.

"This is my first _full_ day off in two weeks," he said. "So I'm enjoying myself. No work at all today. Well, I might possibly have to run out for an emergency repair later tonight. Those sometimes come up."

Tami covered her mouth to hide her laugh.

"But while I'm doing that, Eric here will be mopping the kitchen floor and dusting and waxing all the furniture. Won't you, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"And it better be pristine when I get back."

As they were eating, Tami said, "Thanks for helping my mom out, Mr. Taylor. You know, with the fourth Saturday special."

"Single moms have a harder time of it," Mr. Taylor said. "People are always judging them. Me? People say, what a great dad! You actually clothe your child!"

Tami chuckled.

"This young man," said Mr. Taylor, pointing to his son, "Will accomplish what I never did. He'll be a professional football player one day. He's going all the way to the NFL. Aren't you, son?"

Eric seemed a bit nervous. "I'm going to try."

"Even if he never goes pro," Tami said, "I'm sure he'll accomplish great things."

Eric smiled at her. He looked like some of the tension had suddenly drained out of him.

"Well, better things than I have, I hope," his father said.

"You _have_ accomplished a great thing," Tami assured him, looking fondly at Eric. "You've raised a fine son."

Mr. Taylor raised an eyebrow, but he didn't respond. He proceeded to ask Tami a lot of questions: How long have you lived in Tyler? When did your dad die? How did he die? What does your mom do for a living? What's your favorite subject? How many hours do you work at Chili's? How long have you worked there? She felt like she was at some kind of interview. Maybe Mrs. Hernandez was right. Maybe he'd just used this grounding as an excuse to get to know her.

Had he grilled Laura like this too? What did he think of her compared to Laura?

"What are your post-graduation plans? " he asked.

"Umm…." Laura had gone to a four-year college, Tami thought. She had nothing so impressive to offer. "I'm concentrating on making sure I _do_ graduate. And _when_ I do," she was done saying _if_ , "I'll probably do what Eric suggested. Enroll in an open enrollment community college, do my best, try to transfer to a four-year in a couple of years."

"I should have taken that football scholarship from Georgia State," Mr. Taylor mused, "instead of playing in the amateur league. I was mentally lazy. I didn't want to hit the books, and I didn't want to leave my high school sweetheart behind in Texas. But maybe I should have. She took off eventually anyway. And if I had gone away to college, then I never would have - " He looked at Eric and suddenly stopped speaking.

Eric gritted his teeth. Tami felt horrible for him. She already gathered he was sensitive to the fact that his conception had set his father down another trajectory. She didn't know if that sensitivity came externally from the things Mr. Taylor said, or internally, from Eric's own misguided sense of guilt. It was probably a bit of both, though Mr. Taylor seemed to regret the potential implication of his present words. The man cleared his throat. "Son, are there more pancakes over there?"

When brunch was over, Mr. Taylor cleared out to his "study" to let Eric tutor Tami in the kitchen. "Remember you're grounded," he told his son. "This is not social hour."

"Yes, sir."

Eric cleared and washed the plates while Tami unpacked her book and Friday night homework. He pulled his chair over next to her on her side of the table, which was facing the rest of the kitchen. "Sometimes I think he wishes I'd never been born," he muttered.

"I'm sure he doesn't, Eric. It's pretty clear to me he loves you. You were important to him before you were even born. He talked your mom into having you. Isn't that what you said?"

"Yeah. I don't know _why_ though. My grandparents were Catholic. My grandmother was super devout. He grew up with that. Probably some kind of guilt complex about abortion."

"Well, whatever the reason, Eric, he raised you. You told me about all the stuff he does with you."

"Yeah. But I think he thinks a lot about all the stuff he could have done _without_ me." He sighed. "Sorry. I don't know why I brought this up."

"I'm your girlfriend, Eric. It's okay to talk to me about your feelings."

"I'm a guy," he said. "I don't have any feelings."

She laughed.

"It's so weird, all of it," he said quietly. "She'd been accepted to UCLA, my mom. This is what my aunt told me, anyway. So in April, when she gets the acceptance letter, she tells my dad she doesn't want to date him once she moves to California. He was a year older, already out of high school, already working and playing amateur ball, but they'd started dating when he was a senior. So they broke up that April. A week later, she realizes she's pregnant. I guess I'm lucky she even bothered to _tell_ him she was pregnant. She could have just gone ahead and had the abortion without his input. But he convinced her to delay her acceptance for a semester and stay in Texas and have me."

"Wow. Why...why didn't she want to keep dating him?"

"My aunt says he was a C+ student in high school. Their parents were working class, barely. They grew up poor. But my mom, I guess, was a straight-A student, had a doctor for a father. Her parents expected big things of her, really big things, better than fooling around with an amateur football player and part-time handy man she'd met in high school. She expected big things of herself too. She was going to go to law school after college. And she graduated high school in 1969, so it was a bit unusual, her plan, you know. My aunt said they were never compatible, her and my dad, not really, that she always thought it was a weird relationship, but they had some kind of...inability to resist each other."

"Sounds like a television drama."

"Yeah."

"And you really have no idea where she is now?" Tami asked.

"She terminated her rights, Tami. Clean slate. I'm not even sure she's still alive, though I don't know why she wouldn't be."

"Do you know her name?"

"I know her maiden name. But she might be married now. And I have no intention of ever trying to track her down." He pointed to her book. "We should be working on this."

It was clear he didn't want to talk about this subject any longer. "Okay," Tami said softly.

They sat almost shoulder to shoulder as they worked. A few minutes into the tutoring, he leaned over and kissed her, softly at first, and then more deeply.

Tami pulled away, smirking, and said, "This is not social hour."

"I kissed you because you got that problem right. Every time you get a problem right, you get rewarded with a kiss. It's an incentive program. Every good tutor uses rewards as encouragement."

They played this game for about fifteen minutes and four kisses when she began struggling with a problem. "What do I get if I _miss_ a problem?" She rested an arm against his back and toyed with his hair. She leaned over and nibbled his ear lobe for a while before finally whispering into his ear, "A _spanking_?"

He drew in a sharp breath. "Damn, Tami. Why did you have to give me a hard-on when there's no chance for relief? It hurts!"

She moved her hand from his hair and fake pouted at him. "Poor, Eric. I'm sorry. Can you help me though?"

"Give me a minute." He sat starting at the stove 60 seconds. He looked down at the book. "Okay, so take the first half of this equation…"


	26. Feb 25 - Sunday, Feb 28

**[Thursday, February 25]**

Tami was late to lunch. She slapped her latest returned Algebra II test down in front of Eric, who was eating a slice of that disgusting cafeteria pizza. He put the pizza down and looked at the number 90 circled in the top right hand corner of the test. He clapped. She took a mock bow, and he swept her onto his lap. They began kissing.

From next to Eric, Joey insisted, "No PDA!"

Tami slid off of Eric's lap and sat across from him and next to Sarah.

Eric looked down at the table, where Sarah and Joey had their fingers laced together, and asked, "No PDA? Then what's that?"

"Handholding," Sarah said, "is not equivalent with a lap dance."

"I was _not_ giving Eric a lap dance," Tami insisted.

Eric looked over the table at her and smiled.

"That sounds more like a Sunday tutoring activity," Joey said.

Eric shot him a warning look. Sarah laughed. Tami blushed. So Joey knew something of their tutoring history, but whether he'd heard it from Eric or Sarah, Tami couldn't guess. If Eric had told by now, she really couldn't fault him for it. Joey was his best friend, and she'd told Sarah plenty.

Joey squeezed Sarah's hand. "I wish _you_ needed tutoring."

"Take what you can get, Romeo," she told him.

Tami unzipped her backpack and showed Eric the photos she'd taken at the basketball game yesterday. "The deadline for the contest is Wednesday. I want to put my entry in the mail tomorrow. Which do you think is best?"

He looked at them, as did Sarah and Joey.

"That one," Joey said, pointing to a picture of a slam dunk.

"That one," Sarah said with a grin, pointing to a photo of the hottest boy on the team, who was stretching his muscular arms on the sideline.

Joey shook his head.

"That one," Eric said, pointing to a player on the sidelines, who was autographing a little boy's basketball. The boy was wearing a Tyler Tiger's jersey, but he was only about five years old, and it would be years before he had a chance to try out for the team. Yet he was looking up at his favorite high school player with a twinkling wonder in his light blue eyes. "Touch of the human," he told Tami.

 **[Saturday, February 24]**

"This World War I anti-war poetry is _depressing_ , dearie," Mrs. Hernandez told her. Tami was reading her Wilfred Owen, which she'd been assigned from her anthology for English class. The woman pointed to her end table. "I've got a Harlequin romance novel right there. Read me that instead."

Tami chuckled, closed her anthology, and went to get the book. It was rather dog eared.

"Pages are folded at the juicy bits," the old lady said. "Just read those."

Tami shook her head and opened to the first spot. A few weeks ago, this would have seemed a mortifying request, but Tami was beyond being embarrassed by any interaction with Mr. Hernandez now. She was like a friend, but an old and wise and eccentric and unpredictable one.

The book was a sports romance, featuring a brooding, blonde quarterback on the cover, and a long-haired brunette with smart girl glasses. It was titled _Playing Defense_.

"She's a sports reporter who really wants a political beat," Mrs. Hernandez said. "But she's stuck covering football." That sounded extremely unrealistic to Tami. "He's the star quarterback of a new NFL team. She resists him at first, of course. She thinks he's just a dumb, womanizing jock."

"Let me guess," Tami said, "he gets the girl in the end?"

"Oh, dearie, don't spoil the ending for me."

Tami laughed and began reading at the first dogeared page. She paused. "I really don't think he would be completely alone in the locker room like that. The last person out is not going to be a football player."

"Suspension of disbelief," Mrs. Hernandez insisted.

Tami continued reading. There was some sexy stuff going on in that locker room. "Well that was fast. Didn't she just hate him a few pages ago?"

"She still hates him. Doesn't mean she doesn't want to get it on. I mean, he has those rippling muscles, dearie."

Eric had rippling muscles. Tami could run her hands over them in the pick-up tonight, after their date, through his shirt, while they were necking, but the more serous fooling around was reserved for their Sunday sessions. She liked their Saturday evening dates to involve a lot of non-physical connection. He wooed her on Saturday for the privilege of fooling around with her on Sunday.

Tami read another scene and said, "They didn't stop to put on a condom."

"Oh, that's not sexy, dearie. They're not going to write that in there. We can just _assume_ they did that."

"Actually, I don't even think they stopped to take their clothes off. Did I miss that part?"

"Sometimes the editors miss a few consistency issues. Don't worry about that. Read on!"

Tami flipped a few more pages ahead. She laughed when she read the phrase _throbbing manhood_.

"Hey, it's not easy coming up with new, non-crass terms sex scene after sex scene, dearie. I know. I wrote fifteen of these books back in the 60s."

"Did you really?" Tami asked. That one might actually be true, for all she knew.

"$200 a pop. That's all I made. But it paid for my bourbon."

"Did you write this one?"

"Oh, God no. If I had, he wouldn't be blonde." Mrs. Hernandez sighed. "He'd have dark hair and hazel eyes."

"Remind me not to introduce you to my boyfriend. I don't want the competition."

 **[Sunday, February 28]**

Eric sat in his desk chair wearing nothing but his black, silk boxers. Tami's arms were draped around his neck, and she was straddling him in the chair, wearing nothing but a pair of pink, lacy panties. Both were panting.

He swallowed. "Thank you for my lap dance," he said.

She smiled. "You're welcome. But I don't think you can get _that_ in the strip clubs, just so you know." Tami had straddled and dry humped him, until he groaned that he was chaffing and begged for her to touch him instead. They'd slipped their hands into each other's underwear and brought one another to orgasm.

She slid off his lap now and put on her shirt. She always felt a little exposed after they fooled around. She didn't in the heat of the moment, but after…

Tami sat down on his bed and wondered if she should just have sex with him. At least oral sex. At least give him a blow job. What they were doing wasn't all that different, was it? And yet…she felt that as long as she held back some part of herself, she would be safer somehow. She could protect a little bit more of her heart for a little longer. She also felt that every week he continued to desire her even though she wasn't putting out was further proof of his regard for her. Of course, Mo had stayed with her for a long time, but only because he was getting satisfaction elsewhere. She trusted Eric wasn't. She'd ignored many a red flag with Mo. There were no red flags with Eric, and he had the general reputation around school of having been faithful for over two years to Laura.

He came and sat beside her on the bed and kissed her cheek. "You're the best," he said. "I love you."

"At least three quarters?" she asked with a smile.

"More like nine tenths."

She lay her head on his shoulder. "What do those words mean to you?" She wondered if they meant much of anything at all. He'd said them easily enough, early enough. Maybe it was just something he would say to any girl he dated. Maybe it just meant, _I like that you make me hard._

"I love you?" he asked.

"Yeah. Mo said it all the time." Even while he was cheating. "Did Laura?"

"She said it whenever I said it."

"So what does it mean to you?"

"I don't know how to define it. It's just how I feel about you. Like...I want to be with you. And you make me smile. And laugh, and I think about you a lot." He laughed. "In the shower especially."

She rolled her eyes. She tried to take his quip lightly, as he'd meant it. She tried not to be disappointed. But she couldn't help but conclude that, yes, that was all _I love you_ meant to him.

But then he continued, "You make me feel different about myself, Tami. I'm under so much pressure to be a great football player. My dad, my high school coach, my soon-to-be college coach, half the school expects me to be great and maybe even go pro...but you…you make me feel like maybe I'd be...I don't know...valuable even if I fail at that. _No one_ has ever made me feel like that."

She kissed him. He made her feel different about herself too. He made her feel like she was smart, worthy of respect, and capable of succeeding. "I bet you could be good at lots of things," she told him.

"I want to do well at football. I love the game. It's shaped me. I want to make it to the NFL, make my dad proud. He's done a lot to support me. He gave up his own dream of going pro to raise me."

"He doesn't know he would have ever gone pro. If you were never born, he might have just stayed in the amateur league until he couldn't play anymore, gotten nowhere. But now he has a steady, salaried job laying carpet _and_ a side job as a handy man. And he makes decent money. For someone without a college degree, he does well for himself."

"Yeah, especially at the handy man gig. He's thinking about quitting the carpet store and doing that full time when I'm off his health insurance. That's the only reason he's keeping the carpet store job, really. For the health insurance."

Tami's mom didn't even have health insurance. They avoided the doctor until it was dire, and then they went to a cash-only, walk-in clinic when they were really sick.

"Maybe he wouldn't have gone pro," Eric continued, "but he also made a lot of sacrifices to support me me in football. Equipment, camps, private coaching sessions….that all cost him a lot of money. He gave up a lot of time, too, to be an assistant coach for my Pee Wee team for three years. And for the last five years, he's gotten up early every morning to jog with me and run plays with me during football season. I don't want to let him down. I don't want to not make it, and all that effort of his have been for nothing."

"That effort was his choice, Eric. He can't expect you to realize his dream for him. You have to realize your own dreams."

"It's my dream too," he said. "I just don't know if it's _realistically_ obtainable. Such a small percentage of college athletes get drafted. I'm good at the high school level, sure...but...college is a whole different ball game. The best of _everyone_ from high school. I'm not going to be competing against the average player anymore. I'll do my best. God knows I'll work my ass off...but, even so, I don't think my odds are all that high."

She draped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "You'll do great, Eric. And if you don't make it to the NFL, you'll be great at whatever else you do. Have you thought about what else you might want to do?"

"I don't really have a back-up plan yet. I don't really want to do anything but football."

"Then do something that _involves_ football, even if you don't end up going pro. Be a sports journalist or a sports announcer or an equipment manager or...coach. You're a really good tutor. If you can make a dunce like me get a 90 in algebra, a subject you don't even like much, imagine what you can do teaching students to play football!"

"You're not a dunce, Tami. And all I did was help you realize you could do it. That ability came from within, you know."

"Well, isn't that exactly what coaches do? Tap the ability with, bring it out, and shape it?"

"I guess. I doubt I could coach college, if I never go pro. Guess I could coach high school, but that can't pay much on its own. Coach Hensely has to teach. Almost full-time."

She shrugged. "It's an honest living. Good benefits. What would you want to teach? Algebra II?"

"God no. I don't like math much. That's why I didn't take any this year. Maybe PE. That's what most coaches teach."

"Coach Riley teaches AP English." He was Sarah and Joey's teacher. "It doesn't _have_ to be PE. What's your favorite subject?"

"U.S. History. Especially the wars. I like to read about strategy. How the generals commanded. Maybe I should double in History and PE. Might make me more marketable. " He threw himself back on the bed, his arms folded behind his head. He looked good lying there, in nothing but his boxers, his v muscles angling down into his shorts, his abs stretched out with his posture. She lay down next to him and draped an arm around his waist. "And here I am already talking like I'm not going to make it," he said.

She kissed his bare shoulder. "It's okay to have both a dream and a back-up plan."

He turned on his side so they were face to face and kissed her lips. "So I know your back-up plan. Open enrollment community college. What's your _dream_?"

"A degree in Psychology from a top tier university," she said, and it was the first time she'd said it aloud to anyone.

"Why psychology?"

"I tried to avoid doing my volunteer hours, and now I _love_ working at the nursing home. I like reading to them, especially Mrs. Hernandez, sharing the photos I take...finding ways to make them feel good about themselves. I want to make sad and worried and lonely people feel better about themselves. I want to help them. I think of how my guidance counselor helped me, believed in me, got me to get tutoring and think I could aim for something higher, and I think maybe I'd like to be a counselor one day. Does that sound crazy?"

"Why would it sound crazy?"

"I've never taken a psychology class. I don't know _anything_ at all about counseling. And I've been a bit of a mess myself. I'm still figuring myself out."

"Well, that's how you help others do it, right? You walked in those shoes. Who wants a perfect counselor who never had a problem in her life? Never made a wrong step?"

"You have a point." She kissed him. "You really think I could do it?"

"Why the hell not? You're smart. And once you're serious about something, you grasp it quickly. You could knock out all of your prerequisites in community college, impress them with your GPA, then transfer to some top tier university like...I don't know…" He smiled. "Baylor. Get a psych degree."

"I could never afford Baylor. I doubt I could get in even if I pull up my grades up in community college."

"Hey, Tami, have the dream and have the backup plan. Right? Isn't that what you said?"

She rewarded him with another kiss. "Right," she agreed.


	27. Sunday, March 6 - Sunday, March 13

**[Sunday, March 6]**

Tami was kissing Eric's chest in bed when he put a hand on her head and began to push her lower. She resisted.

"Tami," he breathed, "I want you to give me...you know."

"I know," she kissed her way back up his chest, to his lips. "But I'm not ready."

The first time she'd told Mo no to a blowjob, he'd said, _C'mon! C'mon now! You don't really mean that?_ She braced herself for Eric's negative reaction now, but he only said, "A'ight. Would you touch me?"

She smiled. "Sure."

"You want me to touch you first though?" he asked.

"No. I want to be second."

 **[*]**

They came out of his bedroom later and cuddled on the couch to watch TV. Mr. Taylor came through the front door twenty minutes into their show, whistling and singing "Zipadee doo da."

Tami laughed. "Must have been a really successful repair," she said after Mr. Taylor greeted them and disappeared down the hall and into his room.

"You hear back about the photography contest yet?" Eric asked her.

"Not yet. But I hope I win something. I have exactly $185 saved for community college tuition."

"You applied anywhere yet?"

"Not yet, but they're all rolling admission."

"You going to look near Waco?" Baylor was in Waco.

She kissed his cheek. "I can't afford rent anywhere, not if I'll be paying tuition. And my mom and sister still need a little help. So it's probably going to be living at home and going to Tyler Junior College." That was just ten miles from her house. Waco was a two and a half hour drive.

Eric felt tense beside her. "You okay?" she asked.

Mr. Taylor walked into the living room, wearing only a t-shirt now instead of his flannel shirt, and plopped down in the arm chair. "What are y'all watching?"

"A Magnum P.I. re-run," Eric said, and relaxed a little as Tami put her feet up on the coffee table and leaned into him.

 **[Saturday, March 12]**

"Eric is taking me out tonight to celebrate me winning third prize in that photo contest," Tami told Mrs. Hernandez. She'd gotten the letter Friday after work and nearly did a jig right there in the kitchen. Shelley asked her if someone had set her shoes on fire.

$500. That, along with her $185 savings, would pay for one full semester of tuition at Tyler Junior College.

"Where's your football player going to go to college again?"

"Baylor. It's not too far. Two and a half hours." Eric thought it was a long way, though. He'd said so more than once. But they both had cars.

"I used to date a Baylor football player," Mrs. Hernandez said. "He was drafted by the Denver Broncos."

"What year?" Tami asked.

"I don't remember. Who are you again?"

This was the first time she hadn't recognized Tami. It troubled her. She'd almost forgotten Mrs. Hernandez had dementia. "Tami," she said. "Your…friend."

Mrs. Hernandez smiled. "It's nice to have a young friend."

 **[Sunday, March 13]**

Eric and Tami lay spooned together in his bed, both in nothing but athletic shorts. He'd asked for a blowjob again, she'd said no again, and they'd engaged in another round of mutual masturbation instead. He was fondling her breasts lazily now, and she swatted his hand playfully away.

"I just want to cuddle now, if that's okay," she told him.

"I _am_ cuddling."

"I mean no more touching."

"How can I cuddle you without touching you?" Eric asked.

"You know what I mean."

He moved his hand to her stomach and let it rest there. He kissed her bare shoulder, and then the back of her neck, and then settled his head on the pillow. "Are blow jobs just something you don't do?" he asked. "Or something you don't do _yet?_ "

"Something I don't do _yet_. And maybe not anytime soon. And I can't promise you _when_ either."

Tami felt strangely empowered when she said those words. She'd never talked like that to a boy she wanted to be with before. She was always too desirous of being liked in return. She'd put Mo off, but much more subtly, and with a strong sense of guilt for her denial. She was done being subtle.

"A'ight. Just wanted to know if I should maintain the hope or not."

She turned in his arms and kissed him. "I see you got rid of the swimsuit issue." When she'd gone for the KY in his drawer, she'd noticed it wasn't there.

He blushed. It wasn't often Eric blushed, but he was blushing now. "I like _Sports Illustrated_ ," he said. "I'm a sports guy."

She smiled. "I don't care, Eric. That's so mild. Mo had _Hustler_. It bothered me when I found that, honestly."

He looked relieved. "Don't worry. I'm not allowed to have that."

"What?" Tami laughed. "What do you mean _allowed_?"

"Well, I mean…like my dad had the sex talk with me – "

"- You mean when he slapped down the box of condoms?"

" – Yeah. Before that, in 7th grade, he had the porn talk. He said there were _levels_ and that I should stick to the lower levels because they weren't quite as demeaning and I wouldn't get as…uh…inured. I think that's what he said. He said inured. He meant – "

"- I know what he meant."

"And he said _Hustler_ was one of the higher levels."

"Sounds designed to make you run out and _find_ a Hustler."

"It did. I did. The next day. I pilfered it."

She laughed. "Pilfered?"

"That was one of the words on my SAT vocabulary cards."

"I know what it means. I just think it's funny you actually used it in a real sentence. So…did your dad catch you with it?"

"No. But it didn't really turn me on. I saw what he meant about…levels. So I took his advice after that and stuck to the…uh…lower levels." He smiled. "But now I've got you. You're the highest level imaginable."

She laughed. "No I'm not. I won't even give you a blowjob."

"I mean you're beautiful. And sexy. And I fantasize about you all the time."

"Yeah?" She put a hand on his cheek. "What do you fantasize about?"

He laughed. "You giving me a blowjob."

"Sorry."

"Nah. It's okay. I love you, Tami. One hundred percent."

She smiled.

"I just….ever since I failed to redeem that coupon…I've wondered what it's like."

"What?" she asked. "What do you mean? What it's _like_? Surely Kimberley…"

He shook his head. "Kimberley and I...We made out a little. That was it. She was older, but she was a virgin. I think she liked that I was younger. Thought I'd be content with not much." He laughed. "And I pretty much was."

"But what about Laura?"

He shook his head.

"You dated two and a half years! You had sex!"

"Yeah, she liked sex. A lot. But she never wanted to do _that_. She thought it was gross."

It hadn't occurred to Tami that there might be girls who wouldn't do that, or that they could possibly get away with not doing it and still have a long-term boyfriend.

"Well, I don't think it's gross," Tami said.

Oral sex had never been her _favorite_ part of fooling around with Mo. He didn't reciprocate, and so it seemed rather one-sided to her. She'd probably given into his requests out of fear of losing him, and not because she genuinely longed to give him that pleasure. Mo had been a jerk, but when she thought about it, she hadn't precisely been selfless either. She hadn't had this urge to give to him, the way she wanted to give to Eric.

Tami truly wanted to give Eric pleasure, and the idea that she could do something for him no other girl had ever done...it _thrilled_ her. It almost made her want to rush to do it, but she also knew the time wasn't quite right yet, that she needed to feel even more secure in their relationship first.

"I'm just not _ready_."

"A'ight."

There was a sound from the kitchen. "Was that the door?" she asked.

Eric sighed. They hastened to dress.

When they crept casually into the kitchen, Eric making some excuse as to what they had been up to, Mr. Taylor was going though the mail.

"You're home early," Eric said.

"The homeowner's ex-husband has to travel for work, and so she had to retrieve her children early," he said, "so the repairs will have to wait. It would be distracting, me banging around the house with them at home."

Tami looked down at the counter top to hide her smile.

"I imagine so," Eric said. "How many kids does the homeowner have?"

"Two. Age three and five. Back and forth between their mother and father. Such a shame for kids." He glanced at his watch. It was probably about 9:30. "What are y'all up to? Done with the tutoring, I assume?"

"Yes," Tami said. "I have to be home before 10:30 every night."

"Your mother runs a tight ship," Mr. Taylor said.

"So do you," Eric told him.

"You've never had a curfew, son."

"No, because I know what would happen if I ever got into trouble while I was out."

Mr. Taylor leaned back causally against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Someday, son, maybe you'll stay out of trouble because you realize trouble isn't all it's cracked up to be, instead of because you're afraid of me. Until then, by all means, fear me."

Mr. Taylor didn't strike Tami as a particularly fearsome man. Strict, perhaps. A man of high expectations, perhaps, but not precisely fearsome. She thought what Eric really feared was _disappointing_ him.

She slid an arm around Eric's waist. "Would you walk me to my car?"

Mr. Taylor stood straight. "Goodnight, Ms. Hayes. Have a safe drive home."

As Eric opened the kitchen door for her, Tami couldn't help but wonder what Mr. Taylor thought of her. He was always polite to her, but she couldn't imagine that _she_ met his high expectations for his son. Then again, maybe after failing to meet the expectations of the parents of Eric's mother, he was willing to cut her some slack.

"'Nite, Mr. Taylor," she said as Eric led her out the door.


	28. March 14 (Mon) - 20 (Sun)

**[Monday, March 14]**

When Tami opened her locker, she found a Baylor catalog on top of her books. A book mark had been inserted at the section that described the psychology department. She laughed. Eric was sweet, but no way in hell she was getting into Baylor yet. If ever.

Underneath that, though, she found a catalog for Waco Community College. He'd dogeared three course pages – General Psychology, Human Mental Growth and Development, and Social Psychology. On top of one of the pages, he'd written – "You can take psych classes in addition to knocking out your basic requirements!"

She smiled. If only she could afford room and board on top of tuition. But living with her mother and going to Tyler Junior College, she sure would save a lot of money.

 **[*]**

Tonight, Eric took Tami out to celebrate her third quarter report card. They both skipped out of work early to meet for desert at an ice cream parlor. Tami had gotten a B in Algebra II, and in her other classes, she had 2 Bs and 3 As.

"I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to need your tutoring services," she told him. "But even if you eventually stop tutoring me, I still want to keep having our _sessions._ "

Fooling around with Eric was so different from fooling around with Mo. She'd enjoyed herself with Mo, most of the time, but there were times she felt like he wasn't all that interested in what she wanted. Eric, on the other hand, seemed to take careful note of what excited her and what cooled her down and to adjust his plays accordingly. In making out with Mo, Tami had been required to play strong defense, because when she pushed his hand away or said no, he immediately tried again, as though he thought she was just being playful. She had to repeat her refusal once or twice before he got the message. Eric took the first no at face value and wouldn't try again the same day. Everything was more intense with Eric, too.

Tami wondered how she ever imagined herself in love with Mo. Mo could be fun, to be sure; they'd gone on adventures together, like those times he'd taken her four wheeling and plinking cans with rifles and water skiing and skinny dipping. He had given her rides home and to work before she could afford a car, and he made her mixed tapes of sappy love songs. But she hadn't felt anything like she felt now. She hadn't known what love _could_ feel like.

"I love you, Eric," she said, and reached across the table for his hand.

"Yeah?" He smiled. "You do?"

She was surprised by his surprise. "Of _course_ I do."

"It's the first time you've ever said it."

"What?" Was it really? She'd _thought_ it before now. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I hadn't."

He dipped his spoon in her ice cream and took a bite. After he licked the spoon, he leaned over the table and kissed her, tasting of chocolate and strawberry. "You thinking about community college?"

She smiled. "Yeah. I got your catalogs." She didn't say how unrealistic she thought Baylor was, or how much she could save by going to Tyler Junior College instead of Waco Community. She just said, "Thanks for thinking of me."

"You'll kick ass in your college classes at Waco Community. You'll be able to transfer in a year. You'll see."

[ **Saturday, March 19]**

Tami was given the opportunity to work an extra, eight hour shift at Chili's on Saturday. She didn't think she could pass up the chance for extra money, but she still visited with Mrs. Hernandez for an hour in the morning.

"I used to work at Chili's," Mrs. Hernandez told her, "During prohibition." Tami was pretty sure Chili's had been founded less than 15 years ago, but she didn't say anything. "We'd sneak people down into a speakeasy in the cellar. I was such a fantastic flapper. You wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, I _would_ believe it," Tami said.

 **[Sunday, March 20]**

Tami and Eric were kissing and dry humping in his bed, her in only silk panties and a tank top, with no bra underneath, and him in a pair of slick athletic shorts. "I can't anymore," Eric said. "Sorry. It chafes." He stopped her from rubbing against him. "Touch me. _Please_."

She reached for the drawer in his nightstand. She applied the KY, slid her hand inside his shorts, and he quickly obtained release.

When his body had stilled and his breathing had leveled, he said, "Your turn. What do you want? Touching or kissing?"

"Kissing?" she asked.

"Down there," he said. "You know. The _special_ kind of kissing."

Mo had never offered that, and she'd never asked, though she'd thought about it.

This wasn't the right order, was it? Didn't the girl always give the guy a blowjob first? Yet Eric was already satisfied, and she was still aching.

She was at once self-conscious and exhilarated at the thought of experiencing with him something she had never experienced before. She badly needed satisfaction. "Kissing," she whispered.

He smiled, pushed up her tank top, and started with her breasts, slowly working his way down. He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and slid them down and off. As he kissed his way up again from her ankle, she closed her eyes, a little embarrassed to be so thoroughly exposed to him. It was the first time he'd ever had her panties off.

"Beautiful," he told her, urging her legs apart. "So perfect." He kissed her inner thigh. "Spread your legs further, Tami, baby. Hook them around my back."

She had always imagined it would feel good, but she had no idea it could feel _this_ good. Tami was soon whimpering and writhing and digging her fingers in his hair.

When he reached one hand up and under her tank top to pinch her nipple, the simultaneous attack on two pleasure centers sent a double-bolt of electricity coursing through her and she cried, "Yes! Please! Yes!"

When they were spooned together later, the sheet now pulled up to Tami's waist, he said, "I think maybe you enjoyed that."

She giggled.

"Maybe during our next session, you could do the same thing for me."

She remained silent. She wanted to give him that pleasure. She was excited to think she would be the first girl to do it to him, but she also wanted to hold back. She'd enjoyed her sexual relationship with Mo, on and off, but there were parts of it that had sometimes felt dutiful. So far, everything with Eric had been thrilling and fully satisfying. She didn't want that to change.

"It's okay," he said, "if you're not ready."

"I should do it. After what you just did for me, I should definitely reciprocate."

"It doesn't have to be tit for tat," Eric said. "Don't feel obligated."

A sense of relief and a warm affection for him washed over her. "Why are you so patient with me?"

"Because I want the first blowjob you give me to be _really_ good."

She laughed.

"And because I love you."

"I appreciate your patience. I really appreciate the lack of pressure. I know my lines don't always seem logical, but - "

"- Hey, babe, the way you want me? It's sexy. It turns me on. I want you to keep wanting - _really_ wanting - everything we do."

She rolled over an put a hand on his cheek. "I never knew a relationship could be like this."

He nuzzled her ear with his nose, smelled her hair, and then bent his head to kiss her neck. It tickled and she giggled. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said.

"How come you don't…you know….talk back?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"When I'm saying things to you while we're fooling around. How come you don't talk back?"

Mo hadn't liked it the few times she'd talked while they were dry humping. He'd shushed her. She wondered now if she was interrupting some fantasy of his with her voice, some picture he was drawing of some _other_ girl.

"You want me to?" she asked.

"You have a sexy voice," he told her. "I like to _hear_ you. I mean, when you moan, it just about…" He laughed. "Do you not like it when I talk to you during? Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I like it," she said, and smiled affectionately. "And I'll try that next time. Talking back. What kind of things do you want me to say?"

"You know, just…what you like. What you like me doing to you. What you like doing to me."

"Okay. I can try that." She kissed him.

He studied her eyes. "You sure you don't mind me saying...stuff? I can stop if it's a turn off."

"It's not a turn off. And it's obviously a turn on for you."

"I...uh...I want to...keep the customer satisfied, you know."

She smiled. "I know. I appreciate that about you."

"So...uh..." He looked away as he asked, "Are there any words or phrases you want me to avoid? Anything that would be an instant turn off? So I don't?"

This sort of sexual communication embarrassed her, as it clearly did him, but she was also grateful that he was willing to engage in it. She couldn't remember Mo much caring about what might turn her off. "None that I can think of right away. Well, just the c word."

"Cock?" He'd used that once today, for the first time. "I'm so sorry. I won't say that again."

She laughed. "No. That's fine."

"Then what?" He looked back at her. "Cum?" His face held a worried expression. He said cum _a lot._

She shook her head and smiled.

His brow knit. "Cake?" He smiled. "You don't want me to say I want to eat you up like cake?"

She giggled. "No, that's not the word."

He looked upward, his thinking expression. "Cabbage?" he asked with a chuckle. "You don't want me to refer to your breasts as two ripe cabbages?"

She picked up her pillow and smacked him on the head with it. He took it from her and tossed it onto the floor. "Caboose?" he asked with a smirk, reaching a hand under her bottom and squeezing. "

She slapped him playfully on the chest.

"Codpiece? You don't want me to say I'd love you to slip your hand down my codpiece?"

She laughed.

"Cream puff? You don't want me to say that your breasts are like delicious cream puffs?' Through the tank top, her chest was giggling a little with her laughter. He watched it. Then he asked, "Candlewick? You don't want me to tell you how much I want to dip my candlewick between your creampuffs?" He seemed to be thinking about doing it right this minute. That, however, was a request he had yet to make of her.

"No, it's not candlewick."

"Then what _is_ the c word?"

She shook her head. "You're just going to have to figure it out for yourself."

"Calafragiliousexpialadotious?"

She laughed. "No. And I think it's Supercalafragiliciousexpialadotious. And, yes, I guess that word is off limits too, because it would just make me laugh."

"Not necessarily. Not the way I say it." He winked, leaned in close to her ear, and said the word in a slow, sexy, deep southern draw, breathing out the vowels, warming her ear. She had to admit, it did send a little tingle through her. He pulled back. "Seriously, what's the c word?"

She shook her head.

"Crotch?" he ventured.

"No, that's not it, but don't say crotch, either. That's just not sexy."

"Cuddle?"

"I love to cuddle," she said, cuddling in closer.

"Cuticle?" He lowered his voice. "I want to trim your cuticles, baby."

She laughed and slapped him playfully again.

"Cluster? Clutch? Clap? The clap is not at all sexy." He rolled on his back and contemplated the ceiling. "Clock? Cyclops? Cave? Clit! It's clit!"

"No, I don't mind clit."

"Cow, cough, carriage…." He kept guessing for the next three minutes, and never did figure out the word.

"I guess I don't have to worry about you saying it, then," Tami concluded.

The house shuddered. The kitchen door had slammed, hard. Not a the-door-got-away-from-me slam, but an _**angry** _ slam.

Eric leaped out of bed to change his shorts. Tami scurried to put her clothes back on. Eric had trouble finding a shirt.

When they came out, Mr. Taylor was in the living room, in the arm chair, with the TV on, guzzling a beer. He glanced at them.

"I was just showing Tami my yearbook from last year. It was in my room."

"Uh-huh," Mr. Taylor said. He looked back at the TV. "You ever see this show, Tami? _The Wonder Years?_ It just came out this year. It's pretty good. Kind of reminds me of my youth."

"I don't have a lot of time for TV," she said. "But I'll give it a try when it's in re-runs."

"Why don't y'all sit down and watch it with me now? I've got nothing better to do."

Eric glanced nervously and Tami, and she shrugged. "Sure," Tami said. "I'm going to go get a glass of water first."

"If you don't mind, bring me another beer," Mr. Taylor said, and held his empty bottle out. He had already drained it.

"Sure," Tami said, taking the bottle from him. "You want one Eric?" Eric answered in the affirmative, and she disappeared to the kitchen.

Tami still thought it was odd that Eric's dad let him drink, given her own mom's never-touch-alcohol stance. She'd yet to see Eric drunk, though she had seen Mo drunk about twenty times in their year and a half together. She wondered what Eric would be like drunk. Mo was loud. Not mean, just loud, and he found everything funny.

As she was returning, holding two beer bottles in one hand by their necks and the glass of water in the other, she heard their voices. She paused around the corner, not wanting to interrupt.

"You were back a lot earlier than I expected," Eric told his father.

"The homeowner I was working for no longer needs my services." Mr. Taylor's voice was strained. Tightly controlled.

"Oh," Eric said, obviously uncomfortable but also worried for his father. "I'm sorry to hear that. Why not?"

"Her ex-husband is moving back into the house, and she should be able to rely on him to handle the repairs now."

"But...he's not a good handyman, is he?" Eric speculated.

"He hasn't always been, no, but it _is_ their house. And their _children's_ house. So it would be worthwhile for them all if he would learn the necessary skills. Apparently he's proven himself willing to learn."

"Ah. Big loss for you, though, huh? She was...an important customer."

There was silence. Tami didn't think she should enter at such an awkward moment.

"I suppose," Mr. Taylor said. "Let's talk about something else, why don't we?"

"A'ight," Eric said. "Can you think of a word that starts with a c that might offend a girl?"

"Cunt," Mr. Taylor answered.

"Ooooooh….."

Tami waited another few seconds before walking in with the drinks. They watched the show in silence for awhile, Tami cuddling with Eric, Mr. Taylor not-so-slowly draining his beer. Tami asked him if he would like a third, and he said, "Yes, please, thank you, Tami." When she returned, Eric excused himself for the restroom.

The commercials came on. Tami could sense Mr. Taylor staring at her, though she kept her eyes on the TV.

"Laura," he said, "would not have kept Eric and me company in an awkward sort of...uh..." He waved his beer around as though he were trying to think of the words. "...situation. She certainly wouldn't have asked me if I would like a beer. She would have made an excuse and gone home as soon as possible."

Tami didn't know what to say to that.

Mr. Taylor guzzled down half his current bottle. He'd had a light, happy buzz that Sunday she'd stayed for lunch, but this was not a happy buzz. She didn't think he was buzzing at all yet, but he was clearly trying to get there. He was draining that beer as fast as he could. "Is my son treating you well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well if he ever doesn't, slap him upside the head for me."

She laughed, half embarrassed, half amused. She was relieved to hear the toilet flush, and to have Eric settle back down beside her. Mr. Taylor returned his attention to the show. Tami leaned her head on Eric's shoulder.

"Bittersweet," Mr. Taylor said. "It's a bittersweet sort of show. Kind of like life."


	29. Saturday, March 26

**[Saturday, March 26]**

"Heathcliff is _so_ passionate about Catherine," Tami said. She'd started reading Mrs. Hernandez her latest assignment, _Wuthering Heights_.

"Dearie, there's passionate, and then there's psychotic. Try not to confuse the two. I hope your football player doesn't dig up your grave when you die."

"No, I don't think he'd do that."

"And if you dump him, I hope he doesn't marry your sister-in-law and hang her dog."

"Yeah...now that you mention it...maybe this book is not so romantic."

"Is your football player romantic?"

"He's sweet." Tami smiled. "He's sincere. I don't know how _romantic_ he is, though."

"Well if Heathcliff is how teenage girls are defining romantic these days, dearie, be glad he's not. Dirty little gypsy. I bet he was good in bed though."

Tami laughed.

"Is your football player good in bed?"

Tami blushed. "We haven't gone all the way. But he's very...uh...attentive."

"Attentive is good."

"I've only had sex once before," Tami mused. "I mean once, total. He probably had it like...200 times with Laura."

"He's had it zero times with you. I'm sure he'll be just as excited as you are the first time."

 **[FNL]**

" _Oh my_ ," said Mrs. Hayes as she looked out the window.

"Something wrong, Mom?" Shelley asked from the kitchen table where she sat munching potato chips and reading a novel. Tami was getting her weekend homework done in preparation for her Saturday night date with Eric.

"Oh, no," Mom said. She walked to the door and opened it.

Mr. Taylor walked in. He had on a short sleeve, white t-shirt today (no flannel shirts in spring), and it pulled rather tightly across his chest. Tami noticed her mom noticing.

"Mrs. Hayes," Mr. Taylor said with a nod. "Tami." He looked at Shelley, obviously not sure of her name.

"Shelley," Shelley said.

"Good afternoon Ms. Shelley Hayes." He turned his attention to Tami's mom. "So it's the air conditioning this time?"

The air conditioner had actually stopped working last September, but they'd just suffered through the final few hot days of the season rather than pay to repair it. Today was warm, but they had all of the windows open, and a light spring breeze helped cool the house. Come late April, however, they'd be suffering for months if it wasn't fixed.

"Are you still running that fourth Saturday special?" Mrs. Hayes asked. "It is the fourth Saturday in March after all."

"Uh….yes. Yes, I am."

"I told a friend about it," Mrs. Hayes said.

"Oh, ma'am, please don't tell your friends about it. The fourth Saturday special is only for a limited number of customers."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, I won't mention it again."

"Can you show me where the unit is?"

Tami's Mom led Mr. Taylor outside and then returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner for her and Shelley. Tami concentrated on her homework. Shelley kept eating potato chips while paging through a novel.

There was a lot of pounding and clanging outside, and the occasional _Goddamn it! Aw hell!_ wafted through the open kitchen window.

"Pretty offensive, hah, Mom?" Shelley asked with a smirk from the kitchen table. Tami and Shelley both knew how strenuously their mother objected to foul language.

Mrs. Hayes turned from the pot she was stirring. "Well, now, Mr. Taylor is a very hardworking man, and I'm sure that unit is difficult to repair. I suppose he can be forgiven his frustration."

When Mrs. Hayes returned her attention to the pot, Shelley chuckled and looked knowingly at Tami.

About fifteen minutes later, when Mrs. Hayes was checking on the dumplings and adding salt to the pot, Shelley said, "Hey, Mom, why don't you invite Mr. Taylor to stay for dinner? He doesn't have anyone to eat with tonight, since Eric is going out with Tami."

Tami sternly shook her head while Shelley smirked at her.

Before their mother could respond, Mr. Taylor opened the kitchen door and stepped inside. "Ma'am, would you turn on your thermostat for me? See if you're getting any cool air?"

Mom turned down the stovetop and left the kitchen.

Tami heard the A/C whir to life. Mr. Taylor raised his hand up above his head and beneath the kitchen ceiling vent. "It's working!" he announced with pride. The whir stopped suddenly. "Aw God d- " He glanced at Shelley and Tami, " - does not like it when the air conditioning stops working!"

"Oh, it just stopped because I turned it off again," said Mom, coming back into the kitchen. "I don't want to waste money. I try not to run it in the spring."

"Well, ma'am, could you run it for just a few minutes to make sure it's working correctly? Just run it for a good thirty minutes before you turn it off again, and give me a call if you notice any issues. You don't want to find it's not working when summer comes around."

"Oh, yes, of course, sorry," Mom said, and left the kitchen again. The A/C was whirring when she returned. "How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, no charge this time," Mr. Taylor said. "It was such an easy fix that I'd be ashamed to charge you."

"Didn't you need to put more freon in it?" Mom asked.

"Some, yeah, some, but I had it in the truck anyway."

"Isn't freon expensive, though?" Mom asked.

"It was getting close to its expiration date. I had to use it up anyway. I'd be ashamed to charge for that."

"Well let me at least offer you some dinner. Would you like to stay for dinner? I'm making chicken and dumplings. I bet you don't get a lot of home-cooked meals."

Tami shook her head slightly. What did Mom think, that he and Eric never cooked for themselves? That they ate TV dinners every night?

"Mom makes the best chicken and dumplings in all of Texas," Shelley said.

"Oh, ma'am, I appreciate the invitation," he replied, "but I need to get going to make sure I can stop by the hardware store before it closes. I really need to stock up on some things."

"Oh, I understand," Tami's mom said. "And you don't have to keep calling me ma'am. Ma'am is so formal. Our children are dating. I suppose we could be more casual. I appreciate your respectful manner, but please do just call me Barbara. Or Barb. I answer to either."

He walked over to her where she stood before the pot, extended his hand, and said, "Well, Barbara, I'm Garrett."

Mrs. Hayes shook.

"My God that does smell fantastic," he said, breathing in the scent of the dumplings. "Maybe...maybe I could stay just a short spell."

There was a rap at the door. "Eric's here for you, Tami, honey," Mom said. "Remember, not a second past curfew."

 **[*]**

After an inexpensive and leisurely dinner at a pit barbecue joint, Tami and Eric went for a walk in a nearby park. A recent, short burst of rain had kept people away, though it wasn't raining at the moment, and Tami enjoyed their solitary stroll. They stopped by the playground, where Eric said, "Watch this," and then tried to impress her with multiple pull-ups on the monkey bars, until his hands slipped from the wet bars and he fell hard on his ass.

She laughed.

He stood up, brushed the mulch off of the seat of his pants, and said, "Ow."

"Want me to kiss it and make it feel better?" she asked.

"Well..."

"Never mind."

They walked to the swings, and he dried off one with the edge of his shirt, sat down on it, and invited her to take a seat in his lap. She did, sitting sideways and wrapping her arms around his neck while he held onto the chains. He kissed her while swinging them lightly by running his feet on the ground.

As their kisses deepened, he stopped trying to swing them and let one hand fall from the chain to her hip. After a while, she pulled away and slid off his lap. She'd felt him stirring to hardness beneath her. She didn't want to work him up too much, because she liked their tradition of Saturdays for emotional connection and Sundays for physical connection.

"Take me to the coffee shop," she said. "I want some hot chocolate."

"A'ight," he said, closing his eyes. "Give me a minute."

They drank decaff coffee and played checkers, until Tami won three games in a row, and Eric suggested the board was rigged and swept the checkers back into the box and returned it to the game shelf. When he sat down across from her again, she said, "And you won the superlative for best sportsmanship!"

He smiled. "I was only teasing."

"How long do you think your dad stayed for dinner?"

"As long as it took him to wolf down those dumplings, and then I'm sure he made an excuse and left, because your mother is one scary lady to talk to."

Tami laughed. "Did she grill you when you picked me up for our first date?" Tami had only left them alone for five or ten minutes.

"It was more like she laid down the law."

"Shelley thinks my mom has the hots for your dad."

"Isn't your mom dating your pastor?" he asked.

"Yep. But I think Shelley may be right. I do think she has a kind of...a...schoolgirl crush on him."

"Your mom? Well isn't that _SPE-CIAL_."

Tami laughed at his imitation of Dana Carvey's church lady character. That was one of her favorite sketches on Saturday Night Live the past two years. She and Shelley watched the show together. When you had an early curfew, late night television became your friend. Not that she hadn't sometimes come home from a date and then snuck back out with Mo again once her mom was in bed. "Who is Mr. Garrett Taylor," Tami asked, playing off the skit, "attractive handy man, or...could it be... _SATAN_?"

Eric chortled. "When I came to pick you up for our first date, and she was wearing that purple blouse - "

"Was she really wearing purple that night?" Her mom's clothing choice had been the last thing on Tami's mind that night.

"Yeah. I just about lost it thinking of the church lady. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. I think it bled a little."

"My mom's not quite _that_ bad. Not as bad as the church lady."

"Didn't she say you'd go to hell if you gave a boy a hand job before you were married?" Eric asked.

"She didn't use the word _hand job_ , precisely, but...yes."

"You're going to burn a long, long time, babe. Because you're _really_ good at that."

Tami shushed him and giggled at the same time. She looked around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Seriously, though, why would your mom be crushing on my dad? Does she know he only went to church six times last year?"

"I think she's aware he's not a regular churchgoer. But he's good-looking. And he was sweet about the fourth Saturday special. Although...I'm not sure she actually gets that the fourth Saturday special is _only_ for her." Unless she got it but was pretending not to because it embarrassed her to take charity. That year they had to use the food pantry, Tami's mom always planned the least crowded hour to go, when she knew there would be few people to see her, and she was in and out as quickly as possible.

"Your mother's not at all his type. I mean, I don't know what his type is, exactly, since he's never introduced me to anyone, but I'm pretty sure it's _not_ your mother."

"I know."

He set down his coffee and asked, "You uh...apply to that community college I told you about? In Waco?"

"Eric," she said, taking his hand. It was time to be honest with him. "Financially, it makes more sense for me to live with my mom while I go to college. I should really go to community college here in Tyler. I'll have very few living expenses, and the tuition is a bit cheaper here."

"Tami, Baylor is a two and a half hour drive from Tyler. I tried a long distance relationship once. It didn't work."

"I'm not Laura."

He let go of her hand. He sat back in his chair, his hand now on his knee, looking peeved.

"I love you, Eric," she said.

"Yeah." He picked up his empty coffee cup. "It's almost your curfew. I better get you home."


	30. March 27 - April 2

**[Sunday, March 27]**

"I think you've got this," Eric said.

They were sitting at his kitchen table, her Algebra II book open between them. Tami closed it. "All teachers should teach as well as you. I wouldn't have been failing in the first place." She put the book in her backpack. She glanced in the direction of the entryway. They could hear the TV faintly in the living room. "So…is your dad going to be home Sunday evenings from now on? Since he doesn't have any more _emergency repairs_?"

She wanted to fool around with Eric, not just because she enjoyed it, but because she felt bad about their near-fight last night, and she needed the reassurance. He'd kissed her only briefly after he walked her to her door. Not that he ever made out fiercely on the porch, with her mother right inside the house, but he usually kissed her longer and more deeply than that.

"I think so."

"Then where are we going to hold our _sessions_?" She'd enjoyed the comfort and privacy of his bedroom for those explorations. She didn't want to do that sort of thing in the backseat of a car, the way she too often had with Mo.

"What about your house?" he suggested. "Sometime when your mom is working?"

"I'm not allowed to have boys in the house when my mom isn't home."

"And you'd never consider breaking that rule?"

Tami had broken plenty of her mother's sexual rules, but somehow breaking them outside of her house seemed less disrespectful than breaking them under her roof. "Well, also...my sister is usually home. I don't want to do anything with my baby sister in the house. She's only in 9th grade. She's never even dated anyone."

"Shelley?"

Eric's disbelieving tone puzzled her. "Yeah. Shelley." It suddenly dawned on Tami that perhaps Shelley had been the object of conversation in the locker room this fall. "Why? What's being said about my sister?"

He swallowed.

"Eric, she's my baby sister! Tell me!"

He ran a hand over his mouth. "Tami, it's not my - "

" _Tell_ me!"

"Just…some JV football player. He said some things."

Tami's tone hardened. " _What things_?"

Eric took in a shaky breath. "He said, Shelley Hayes …" He looked around the kitchen.

"Shelley Hayes what?"

"Gave him head."

"He's lying! She's 14."

"You were 15 when you lost your virginity."

" _I'm_ the bad girl of the family," Tami said. "I'm the one who almost dropped out. Shelley has a better than B average. I'm the one who lost my virginity at a drama party. Shelley _never_ sneaks out of the house. I'm the one who skipped classes to go make out with a football player my junior year. Shelley still has stuffed animals in her room!"

"So did Laura. At college. She brought her favorite teddy bear. I know, because I saw it in her bed _when I was having sex with her_. Tami, I don't want to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I really don't think your sister is the little angel you imagine she is."

"My sister has never had a boyfriend. She's not going to just offer some random guy head."

"I didn't say he was random. I got the impression they'd been spending time together around school."

The freshmen had their own hallway of the high school, where their lockers and most of their classes were located. They had their own lunch period, while the rest of the school was divided across two lunch periods. Tami didn't see much of Shelley during the school day. She drove her to and from school on occasion (though Shelley usually rode her bike and remained after school for extracurriculars), and their paths sometimes crossed when Shelley was headed to the gym for P.E., but that was about it.

"I don't believe it! She never told me about _any_ of this!"

"Okay," he reassured her. "Maybe he was making it up."

"Oh God." She put a hand on her forehead. "I don't understand. She's just a _baby_."

"She's pretty, Tami," Eric said softly. "She's a cheerleader. She's popular, especially among the JV guys. Really popular."

Tami crossed her arms and glowered. "I need to go home," she said. "Now."

"A'ight." He walked her to his car. He kissed her, but she was the one who didn't respond deeply this time. She was too distracted.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked.

"Tami, it's not my place to talk about what I overhear other guys say, and, honestly, until now, I assumed your sister talked to you about this sort of stuff anyway."

Tami shook her head. "I assumed she did too."

 **[*]**

Tami knocked on Shelley's bedroom door. Her sister called for her to come in. Shelley was lying on her bed, flipping through her junior high yearbook.

Tami sat down at her desk chair. "What are you looking at?" she asked.

"Just want to see what Connor Smith looked like in 8th grade. I don't remember him being so hot."

"Is Connor on the JV football team?"

"Yeah."

"Shelley…this is a crazy question, but….you're not giving any guy…you haven't….how far have you gone with a guy?"

"Don't worry, Tami, I'm not going all the way tomorrow. "

"How far have you and Connor gone?"

Shelly shrugged. "I've just given him a few HJs."

"A few what?"

"I just jerked him off a few times. I get a bathroom pass during study hall, and we meet in the back of the theater. There's no class there during 5th period."

Tami closed her eyes. So the football player had exaggerated his score, but there was an underlying truth. "Jesus, Shelley!"

"What? It's not like you haven't done it tons of times with Mo. Like you aren't doing it with Eric."

"I was going steady with Mo. I'm going steady with Eric. Has Connor even taken you on a date?"

"I _can't_ date," Shelley said. "Mom won't _let_ me until I'm 16. He walks with me part way home sometimes, when I stay late for cheerleading practice."

"Hand jobs, really? For a guy who walks you _part way_ home _sometimes_?"

"Chill out, Tami. I'm not planning on giving him a BJ until mid-to-late April."

"Shelley!"

"What?"

"You're 14! Slow the hell down!"

"What are you?" Shelley asked. "My mother?"

"No, I'm your big sister. And I worry about you getting hurt." Tami took a deep breath.

She went on to tell Shelley about her mistake with Paul at the party, which was a secret she had never revealed to her. She described how jaded and cynical that experience had made her, and how she was just now, with Eric, beginning to realize that she was truly valuable and that she didn't have to feel obligated to do anything she didn't want to do. "Don't rush to be accepted, Shell, that's all I'm saying. Don't do things just to be liked. Do them because _you_ want to. Because you _really_ care about him."

"I hear you, Tam. But you don't have to worry about me. I know what I'm doing."

"You do? Because I'm three years older than you, and half the time I still don't know what I'm doing." She looked at her little sister, who was not a baby anymore. Eric was right. Shelley was pretty, and she was growing up. "Just…know I'm here to talk to. Whatever you want to talk about, I'm here. Okay?"

"I know, Tam. You've always been here."

 **[Tuesday, March 29]**

Tami took on extra hours at Chili's during spring break, so she didn't see Eric on Monday. When she walked out of Chili's at 10 PM on Tuesday, however, he was leaned against the brick wall by the front door. She jumped a little when he said hello.

He took her hand and pulled her aside, backed her to the wall, and kissed her passionately. "You should be more observant," he said. "What if I was some crazy attacker?"

She laughed. "Well, you _are_ attacking me right now." She was glad he was. He'd seemed a little annoyed with her lately, ever since she'd said she needed to stay at home when she went to community college.

A couple exited the Chili's and looked at them.

Eric took her hand and walked her to her car. She leaned against the side, and they kissed some more.

"You know my Mom expects me home at 10:30, right?" she asked him, smiling.

"I know." He took her hands. "I just wanted to stop by so I could ask in person. Will you go to senior prom with me?" Prom was Friday, April 15. Just two weeks away.

"Oh, Eric…prom costs so much money. We can't afford - "

"- We can just take my truck." He let go of her hands. "I know when you went to junior prom with Mo, he rented a limo and all, and I can't afford that, but I'll wash and wax my truck and I'll clean it up real nice for you. I just don't have a rich daddy like he does."

She stepped forward and kissed him. Mrs. Hernandez was right. You couldn't forget the male ego. "I don't care about that. I was just trying to be practical. I'm saving for community college. I just don't need prom. I love you. I just love being with you. Anywhere. There's no one else I'd rather be with."

"It's just…" He looked down at the ground. "I never went, you know, to junior prom. Laura didn't want to. Too babyish." He looked back up at her. "We're graduating. This is our last hurrah in high school. I want to make you feel like a queen."

"You do?" She smiled and kissed him. "Then let's go. I want to make you feel like a king."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. His grin was huge when he leaned in to kiss her. She wondered if he thought that taking her to senior prom would necessarily mean sex, and if that was why it was so important to him. She pulled back from his lips. "Eric, just because it's prom doesn't mean we're going to go all the way."

"I know," he said. "Tami, I'm not pushing you to do that. Haven't you figured that out yet? We can just dance all night, if that's what you want. I took lessons."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Ballroom. My dad made me when I was 15." He laughed. "Said it would be good for my coordination and it would teach me manners."

She grabbed him by the belt buckle and pulled him close and kissed him hard. Eventually, they broke apart. She unlocked her car door, and he opened it for her.

"Hey," she said, before she got in. "My mom wanted me to invite you and your dad to our church for Easter Sunday."

"A'ight. I mean, I've got to clear it with my dad, but, I'm sure he'll be fine with it."

She kissed him one more time before getting in the car.

 **[Saturday, April 2]**

Tami set an Easter basket on Mrs. Hernandez's night stand. She was sitting up in her bed this morning, her hands crossed on her lap, just staring at the wall. She turned when the basket hit the nightstand, and her eyes brightened when she saw Tami. "You know I'm diabetic, dearie," she said.

"All sugar free, Mrs. Hernandez."

"Did you know I used to own a candy store? I sold it when I had to move in to this here home. That's why I can afford my own room and don't have to deal with any crazy roommate."

"What was it called? The candy store?"

"Carol's Candies."

"I didn't realize your name was Carol." Tami pulled a chair close to her bed and settled in.

"It's not. That was my husband's name. My name's Julia."

"Julia's a beautiful name," Tami mused.

"But I inherited the store when he died. Did I tell you how he died? He was scaling Mount Everest."

Tami tried very hard not to laugh. What if her husband actually had died trying to scale Mount Everest?


	31. Easter 1988

**[Sunday, April 3]**

"Oh _my!_ "

Tami may not have said those words with her mother, but she thought something similar. Eric and his father were walking down the block toward the church. They'd had to park along the street. The lot was always overflowing on Easter. _Where are these people the rest of the year?_ Mom had asked when they arrived.

Eric's father was in a dark black suit with a striking, blood red tie and black, snakeskin cowboy boots, while Eric wore a lighter, gray suit with silver tie and shiny dress shoes. They looked magnificent, both of them. Fancy Easter bonnets were turning every which way as women and girls looked at them making their way up the pavement.

"Hello, ladies," Mr. Taylor said when he arrived before them. "Happy Easter."

"Happy Easter to you, too," Mom told him, and then jumped ever so slightly when Pastor John put a hand on the small of her back.

"Do you want to introduce me to your friends?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Pastor," Mom said, stepping away from his touch. "This is Garrett Taylor and his son Eric."

 **[*]**

Down the pew it went: Mr. Taylor, Mom, Shelley, Tami, Eric. Tami noticed that Mr. Taylor was a good singer, in tune, and with a deep baritone. She noticed her mom noticing too.

When they were seated after the opening hymn, Eric put an arm around Tami's shoulders, and she felt important, somehow, all dressed up in her Sunday best, her hair done just right, with this young man's suit-clad arm around her shoulder, her steady boyfriend, who loved her. She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"He is risen!" Pastor John shouted.

"He is risen indeed!" the congregation shouted back.

Tami peered at Eric. It was horrible, horrible, horrible, that on the holiest of holy days, she should hear the word risen and think instantly of fooling around in bed with Eric. When were they going to have the chance for another _session_? Certainly not today, with both parents home and the expectation of family time. She could tell by Eric's shameful grin that he was thinking the same thing. He bit down hard on his back teeth, probably to keep from laughing. She had to cover her mouth, but she couldn't quite suppress it.

"Shush," her mother told her over Shelley. Mr. Taylor glanced all the way down the line to Eric and said _behave_ with his stern eyes.

After church, Eric disappeared to the front lawn to throw a football around with a couple of guys from the team as well as some of the littler kids, while the rest of them lingered about the fellowship table. If Mom had hoped something to happen with Mr. Taylor as a result of this Easter excursion, she was disappointed, however, because another quite attractive brunette in a floral spring dress ended up flirting with him over the coffee pot.

"She's shamefully obvious," Mom muttered from where she and Tami stood six doughnut plates down from the coffee. "And she's only thirty-one! She must be ten years younger than him!"

"I think Mr. Taylor is thirty-eight," Tami said. And Pastor John was ten years older than Mom.

"Well she's never been married," Mrs. Hayes said. "There's something suspicious about a woman who makes it to thirty-one without ever being married."

Tami did not point out that Mr. Taylor had never been married either.

"And she's one of those Christmas and Easter Christians," Mrs. Hayes muttered. "Hardly ever here any other time of the year. I think I saw her eight times last year."

Tami did not remind her mother that Mr. Taylor often worked Sunday mornings himself.

This time, when Pastor John came up and put a hand on the small of Mom's back, she didn't pull away from him. She did, however, glance toward Mr. Taylor, whose head was now tilted downward toward the pretty, single woman. He was listening to her with a look of concentration. He nodded and smiled, and his low chuckle drifted across the refreshment table. Mr. Taylor took a pen from his suit pocket and said something to the woman. Then he wrote on the margin of his church bulletin, probably her phone number.

"What did you think of the sermon?" Pastor John asked.

Mrs. Hayes withdrew her attention from Mr. Taylor and turned to him. "Lovely, John," she said. "So affecting. You really are very articulate."

Tami left them and made her way out to the lawn. She watched Eric toss the football. He'd taken off his suit coat and draped it over the low brick wall that lined the walkway to the church. His tie was loosened. He looked incredibly sexy to her, as he played with those kids, picking one up and twirling him around when the little boy made a good catch. Tami couldn't help but think he'd make a good father. That was not a thought that had ever popped into her mind when she'd been dating Mo. She _had_ thought of the _possibility_ of marrying him _one_ day, but Mo as a father? The thought had never entered even the shadow of her thoughts.

Eric spied her, smiled, and put the kid down. He hunched down a little, told the boy something, and then came and picked up his coat and sat on the wall. He rested his coat across his lap. Tami sat next to him. They kissed briefly. She wasn't going to engage in a big public display of affection at church. She nodded over to a tree, where Shelley was flirting with a blonde boy who had his back leaned against the trunk. "Is that Connor Smith?" she asked. She hadn't seen him at their church before. He probably had a relative here and had been compelled to come for Easter service.

"Yeah. He's a sophomore. He's a JV offensive guard, but he got some time in a few varsity games last season."

"He's the one who claimed my sister gave him...you know?"

"Tami…"

"Is he?"

"Yeah."

"Well she _didn't_." She'd done more than Tami would like, however.

"A'ight."

"I don't trust him," Tami said.

"Want me to have a talk with him? Tell him if he crosses the line with your sister, I'll beat the crap out of him?"

She chuckled. Then her face grew serious. "Would you?"

He laughed. "Sure. Not here, though. Not on Easter."

 **[*]**

Back at the tiny Hayes house, Tami's mother slid the Easter ham into the oven. She took out the side dishes she'd prepared that morning and put them in to warm as well. Shelley munched on the chips and salsa mom had left on the counter to "tide y'all over" while the meal warmed. Tami had put the leaf in the table before church, and added two chairs around it, so that it took up nearly the entire space in breakfast nook now. Someone would have a tight squeeze getting into the chair at the far end.

"Can I get you a drink, Garrett?" Mrs. Hayes asked.

"I'd love a beer."

"Oh. We don't keep alcohol in this house."

"Ah," he said, appearing a bit taken aback. "Water would be fine."

"How about some sweet tea?"

Mr. Taylor nodded. "That would be lovely. You do make a fine sweet tea, Barbara."

"The secret is adding the sugar while it's still hot, but cooling it quickly," Mrs. Hayes said.

"Ah."

Tami set the table. The kitchen was pretty crowded, so Mrs. Hayes invited them to sit down in the living room while the food warmed, but that meant bringing out a kitchen chair for Mr. Taylor, since they only had the couch and rocking chair out there. The living room wasn't much less cramped, but at least they could sit. Tami sat between Eric and Shelley on the couch, and Eric draped an arm around her. Mom sat in Dad's old rocking chair.

"How did you like the service?" Mrs. Hayes asked Mr. Taylor.

"It was very..." It was clear Mr. Taylor was fishing for words.

"It was very moving, Mrs. Hayes," Eric said. "Thank you for inviting us. You have a lovely church."

"Just what I was going to say," his father insisted.

"I saw you chatting with Karen Jones at fellowship hour," Tami's mom said. "I don't know her very well. She rarely attends. I'm told she's a nurse and she often works Sundays. I suppose that's a very busy career."

"Yes, she had some interesting stories to tell, too." Mr. Taylor smiled. "She's thinking of going to medical school. Becoming a doctor. But I guess she has to complete a few more prerequisites first."

"Oh," Tami's mom said. "I suppose more women do that sort of thing now. Almost no one thought of that when I was growing up."

"No one thought of a lot of things when we were growing up," Mr. Taylor replied.

"I never went to college myself. I didn't really have any goal except to build a strong marriage and raise my babies."

"That's a noble goal, Barbara." Mr. Taylor sipped his tea. "I don't have a college degree either. But our kids will outshine us there, won't they?"

Mrs. Hayes glanced at Tami. "I suppose they will. Eric's really helped Tami raise her grades this year. She never talked about community college until she met him, and yet there she was yesterday, typing up her application to Tyler Junior College."

Eric flinched slightly beside Tami, as if someone had threatened to hit him. She put a hand on his knee and squeezed, but he didn't relax right away. Eric was going to have to accept the fact that she couldn't afford to move to Waco. It wasn't as if she could move in with him, either. His scholarship only covered campus housing. He'd have a single dorm room, with a roommate, and she couldn't very well shack up with him there, even if they were both willing to "live in sin," as her mother would call it. Besides, her mother and Shelley needed her help, her small contribution to the weekly income.

Eric seemed a bit tense for a while, but there was a light moment over brunch, when Tami's mother and Eric's father were discussing genealogies and cultural heritages, and Mr. Taylor said, "We have some Irish, too. Mostly Welsh and English, though. But there's a great-great-great something or another of mine who was born in Blarney."

"Blarney. That's where they have the stone?" Mrs. Hayes asked. "Some kind of special kissing or something?"

Tami heard the phrase _special kissing_ , flushed, and caught Eric's eye. He grinned at her and then turned his smile to the ham on his plate.

"You kiss the stone," Mr. Taylor said, "and supposedly it instills you with the gift of a silver tongue."

A half suppressed laugh snorted from Eric's nose.

"What's so funny about that, son?"

"Nothing, sir."

"I like that you've raised him to be polite," Mrs. Hayes said. "I like that he minds his no sir's and his yes ma'ams. Not as many young men do that today as when I was a girl."

"What were you laughing about then?" Mr. Taylor asked him.

"Just...thought of something unrelated."

Mr. Taylor shook his head and returned his attention to Tami's mother. "They say when you kiss it, you receive the gift of gab. You become excellent at flattery."

"Sounds a bit superstitious to me," Mrs. Hayes said. "Glad my people got rid of all that superstitious Catholic nonsense when they emigrated to America and became Bible-believing Protestants."

Tami winced.

Mr. Taylor chuckled. "Protestants have their share of superstitions, too."

Tami's mom looked from Eric to Mr. Taylor. "Y'all aren't Catholic, are you?"

"I was raised Catholic," Mr. Taylor said. "I belong to an Episcopal church now." He smiled. "People call it Catholic _lite_."

"So neither you nor Eric has ever had a believer's baptism?"

 _Please stop_ , Tami wanted to shout at her mother. _Please just stop!_ Instead, she said, "Does anyone need more collard greens? I think there's some still on the stove."

"Eric was confirmed when he was 12," Mr. Taylor answered. "In the Episcopal church. He took confirmation classes at the time. He can recite the Nicene Creed and the Apostle's Creed and all of the essentials."

"Well, I believe the Bible is the only essential, isn't it?" Tami's mom asked. "Confirmation. Creeds. That sounds like a lot of traditions of men."

Shelley, clearly trying to help her big sister out, said, "I'd love some more collard greens. Mom, those greens were fantastic. How did you keep them from getting too bitter?"

"And you don't think there are any traditions of men at your Baptist church?" Mr. Taylor asked. "You believe Jesus served his disciples _grape juice_ at the Last Super, I suppose?"

"Well what they called wine back then was not like the wine we have today," Mrs. Hayes insisted. "It was more watered down. It was _not_ so intoxicating as the wine we have today. It was closer to grape juice."

"Ah." Mr. Taylor cut his slice of ham. "I suppose that's why the Bible says, 'Be not drunk with wine.' Because it _wasn't_ intoxicating back then."

"Dad, did you hear about that A&M quarterback in that spring game last week?"

Eric's father began talking football with him.

Later, Shelley asked to be excused to study in her room, and Eric's mother and father retreated to the living room while Tami and Eric volunteered to do the dishes. Eric washed while Tami dried.

"I'm so sorry about my mother," Tami said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about my dad. I don't know why he was like that, quoting the Bible, when he doesn't even go to church but a few times a year."

"Did you used to go more often?"

"My aunt dragged us to Catholic church when she was living with us, when I was little. I guess I was baptized there. Then she moved, and so no church for years. Then we started going to the Episcopal church when I was 11. I realize now my dad was probably interested in the organist there. I wasn't really that aware of that sort of thing back then."

Tami thought he chose not to be too aware of that sort of thing now.

Eric handed her some silverware to dry. "Our attendance seriously slacked off when the organist got engaged to a guy in Texarkana and moved. But by then I'd been confirmed. I started going more often when I noticed Laura...on my own, even when my dad couldn't...then she went away to college, and my attendance slacked off too."

"So what you're saying is that the Taylor religion is women."

He handed her a plate with a smirk. "Well, if woman lost man Eden, I suppose it's only fitting that she restore it to him."

"Hey, Eve didn't do that all on her own." She dried the plate and stacked it on the counter. "It takes two to tango."

He turned off the water, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against himself. "I'll tango with you anytime."

She laughed and kissed him. He kissed back, more deeply. She was breathing somewhat heavily when he finally pulled his mouth away.

"If you kissed the blarney stone, and got the gift of gab," he whispered, "you might even be able to talk me into some _special kissing_."

A tingling spread through Tami's entire body, but concentrated in one particular place. "I really liked it," she told him. "I figured I would, but I just didn't know what it would be like."

"Why, you thought I'd be worse at it than Mo?"

There it was again, that male ego Mrs. Hernandez had warned her about. "No. Mo never did that."

"What?" Eric let go of her, turned back on the water, and resumed washing the dishes. "I thought you said you two went as far as oral sex?"

"I meant me giving him oral sex."

"So I'm the first guy to ever..." He handed her another plate. "I'm the _only_ guy?"

"Yeah."

He grinned. "Unchartered territory, huh?"

She snapped his butt with the kitchen towel. "Pleased with your conquest?" she asked.

"Nah, no, it's not about that." He started scrubbing another dish.

"I know." She was probably going to feel the same satisfaction when she finally gave him his first blow job. She felt ready now, but she thought maybe she would reserve that for prom night. Now _that_ would make him feel like a king, to be kneeled before.

Mr. Taylor's laugh drifted into the kitchen from the living room.

"I guess they're getting along again," Tami said.

"I'm surprised your mom said something funny enough to make him laugh like that," Eric said. "I figured she didn't believe humor was biblical."

Tami smacked him lightly with the dish towel again and smiled. "My mom has her moments."


	32. April 5 - 14

**[Tuesday, April 5]**

Tami slid into the cafeteria chair next to Eric and showed him her English paper on _Wuthering Heights_. "95%!" she said.

He kissed her. "Congratulations."

"That's awesome, Tami," Joey said. "I only got an 89 on my paper on that book."

"Yeah, but they expect more of AP students," Tami said with a shrug.

"Nah," Eric said, looking at her paper, "listen to this – " He read the teacher's comment, "A very mature analysis. Your exploration of the danger of the obsessive nature of Heathfcliff and Catherine's relationship and your contrast of it with the relationship between Haerton and Cathy is exceptional."

"I really owe the idea to Mrs. Hernandez," Tami said. "I can't wait to read her the paper."

"Well, idea or not," Eric said, "it was your words. I'm proud of you." He leaned in and kissed her. "That's Baylor material, babe. Two years to a transfer."

She chuckled. "Did you…uh…talk to Connor?" she asked him.

"Cowboy Connor?" Joey asked.

"Do you have nicknames for everyone?" Sarah asked him.

"Yeah." Joey said. "Jaded Jackson. Anxious Aaron. Bitchin' Bob. Earnest Eric. That's how I remember people's names."

Tami laughed. "Earnest Eric?"

"He _is_ earnest," Joey insisted. "Most intensely serious guy I ever met. Except when he's laughing. Am I right, my brother?"

Eric fist bumped him. "Got to be serious, man. It's how you win championships."

"So what's your nickname for me?" Sarah asked.

"Sexy, Sensational, Smart, Singular, Stylish Sarah," Joey said with a smile.

"Not sweet?" Sarah asked innocently.

"What about me?" Tami asked. "What's your nickname for me?"

"Uh…."

"He hesitates," Sarah said, smirking. "Sounds like he doesn't want to say he calls you Titty Tami."

Eric and Tami snorted, but Joey looked at Sarah aghast. "I do NOT! I would never say such a thing. Besides, do you think Eric would let me live if I said such a thing? It's Tenacious Tami."

"I think you said she was bodacious, not tenacious," Sarah said.

"If I were being alliterative," Eric said. "I'd choose tantalizing."

Tami chuckled and kissed his cheek.

"But yes," Eric said, "I did talk to Connor."

"Why do you call him Cowboy Connor?" Tami asked Joey.

"Because he always wears that stupid, frickin' cowboy hat. As if the 100,000 inhabitants of Tyler were all on the ranch."

"He didn't have it at church on Easter," Tami said.

Joey shrugged his massive shoulders. "Glad to know he made an exception for the Lord's Resurrection."

"So what did he say, when you talked to him?" Tami asked Eric, lacing her arm through his on the table.

"He said he would treat Shelley with the respect she had earned."

"Oh no," Tami said.

"So _I_ say," Eric said, "You'll treat her with the respect that I demand you treat her with, or I'll knock your lights out."

"You didn't."

"No. Not in those words."

Tami smiled. "But you did? In some words?"

He nodded.

She leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

 **[Wednesday, April 6]**

Shelley was not in the rocking chair reading when Tami got home from her shift at Chili's. She was in her bedroom crying. Tami knocked and came in. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Connor broke up with me!"

"Oh." That was not precisely how Tami meant that to go. "Wait. What do you mean broke up with you? You weren't really even dating."

"He's getting some other girl to give him HJs now!"

"Well, Shell, if he thinks that's an interchangeable function, you know, maybe he was more interested in the…HJ…than in you."

"I thought he loved me!" she wailed.

"Please tell me you didn't actually think that."

Shelley threw her pillow across the room in Tami's direction. It fell at Tami's feet. Shelley wiped her eyes. She huffed. She took in a deep breath. "Oh well," she said. "There's still Kash."

"Who?"

"Kash Taylor. No relation to your boyfriend."

"What are you doing with him?" Tami asked.

"Just kissing. He's totally religious. He's Pentecostal. You know, those hand raisers. He won't do much. Such a waste, too. He's _so_ hot."

"Good for him," Tami said. "He sounds like a good guy. Stick with him." She began to close the door. "I love you, Shell," she said before it clicked shut.

 **[Saturday, April 9]**

Tami went to the nursing home in the morning. Mrs. Hernandez listened to her read her paper and nodded, but she didn't have much to say today. Tami had been hoping she would be pleased that she had taken their conversation as a seed, but she didn't seem to remember discussing _Wuthering Heights_ at all.

Finally Tami stopped reading the paper and told her about her big, upcoming prom date.

"I went to prom," Mrs. Hernandez said, finally speaking after the long silence. "With a handsome young man named James Byron Dean."

Tami chuckled. "Did he have a sexy motorcycle?"

"Dearie, he had a _sexy_ everything. " She paused. She narrowed her eyes at Tami. "What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting with you, Mr. Hernandez."

"Who are you again?"

"It's me, Tami. Your friend."

"Oh. You're the one who stole James Dean from me, aren't you?"

"No, ma'am. That wasn't me."

" _You_ ," she said angrily. "Thief." Mrs. Hernandez turned and looked at the wall.

Tami tried to make more conversation with her, but she wouldn't say anything. She just hummed.

Eventually, Tami resumed reading.

 **[*]**

"I feel like she's deteriorating," Tami told Eric on the phone as soon as she got home from the nursing home. She tried not to cry, or rather to _sound_ like she was crying, because she already _was_ crying a little. "This is the second time she hasn't recognized me. It was worse this time."

"I'm sorry, babe," he told her. "Want me to come over? Hold you? I will."

"You're as sweet as sugar, Eric. But I know you have to go to your shift at the Whattaburger in fifteen minutes." He'd taken on an extra Saturday shift this week to make some extra money for prom. Unfortunately, there would be no date at all this weekend. She'd also had an opportunity to pick up an extra shift on Sunday. She needed the money to make up for what she was about to spend on her prom dress. "Besides, Sarah and I are about to go dress shopping. But thank you."

"I love you, Tami. I'm sorry…I'm sorry you feel bad."

"I love you too, sugar." It was the first time she'd called him _sugar_ , but it would stick for years to come.

 **[*]**

"Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous!" Sarah told Tami when she came out of the dressing room in a short, low-cut, silky green dress. "Eric will pop a vein."

"My _mom_ will pop a vein when she sees how low-cut this is. I have to find one that's a little less revealing."

Sarah sighed. "Back to the drawing board." She'd picked out her own prom dress over an hour ago. "Make it red, then," she told Tami. "When men see red, they see sex."

"I'm _not_ having sex with him on prom night," Tami insisted. "At least, we're not going all the way."

"Sure you aren't." Sarah picked a red dress off the rack. "Try this one."

Tami finally bought a dress on sale, and, yes, it was red.

They went to Whattaburger for dinner. Tami brought her milkshake up to the counter and said to the boy behind the register, who looked to be about 15, "I have a problem with this milkshake. I need to see the assistant manager. Right now."

"Uh…if there's a problem," the boy said nervously, "I can – "

"Now," Tami insisted.

"You want the manager?"

"No. I want the _assistant_ manager."

The boy look puzzled but wandered off to the back. Eric came out in his orange and navy Whattaburger uniform, wearing the little paper hat. He was adorable. He smirked when he saw her. He stood behind the counter, at the end. She wandered over to him.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.

The boy who had gotten him glanced at them nervously as he rang up another purchase.

"Yes. This milkshake is unacceptable." She took a slow sip through the straw.

"Really?" Eric said. "Let me taste it and see." He leaned over the counter and kissed her, thrusting his tongue in her mouth.

The boy at the register stared at them, wide eyed, mouth slightly agape.

Eric pulled back. "Tastes exceptionally good to me, ma'am."

Tami sipped again slowly. Then she ran her tongue sensually over the tip of the straw, swirling it around the opening. Register boy was still watching them, while his customer cleared his throat.

"Damn, Tami," Eric hissed. "Don't do that. I have to go back to work."

"I know." She leaned over the counter and kissed him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Hey," he said softly. "How you feeling? You okay? I know you were upset about Mrs. Hernandez."

Tami shrugged. She tried to seem less emotional about the issue than she was. "I just…you know, I knew she had dementia. I knew that. I just thought I was special. That I got through to her somehow. That she _knew_ me, that she'd always…know me somehow. It was silly to think that."

"You _are_ special," he said.

She laughed.

"No, Tami. You really are." He leaned in and kissed her again. "I love you," he whispered. "But I have to go back to work."

"I know." Tami smiled at register boy and then went back to sit across from Sarah.

"Don't tease that poor boy," Sarah said. "He's so in love with you."

"The kid at the register?"

"Eric!"

Tami laughed. "I know. I'm kind of in love with him, too."

"You're really not having sex with him Friday?"

She shook her head. "I want to save that. Maybe until…I don't know. But I might…" She glanced in Eric's direction, where he was now talking to a customer who was irate because register boy had not taken his order promptly. "I might give him something more than usual Friday night. His dad is going to be out of town." Mr. Taylor was going to Oklahoma for the weekend to see his new nephew. Eric's aunt had recently had a baby. "And my mom extended my curfew to midnight for prom. So we might skip out of the dance at ten, go back to his house…." She smiled. "

"Joey told me he rented a hotel room."

Tami's neck shot left as she turned her gaze from Eric to Sarah. "That's a bit presumptions of him."

"That's what I said. We've been dating two months. Barely. But he said he wasn't presuming anything, that he just wants to _cuddle_. "

Tami laughed. "Boys and cuddling." She sipped her milkshake. "That's kind of disappointing. I thought Joey was a really nice guy."

"He is," Sarah said. "But he's a virgin. And he's almost 18. And he's seen everyone else on the team…" She shook her head. "I feel a little sorry for him, honestly."

"Sarah, as your friend, I have to tell you, absolutely no pity sex allowed."

"Trust me, none will be forthcoming. I'm still a virgin too. I'm not doing it until I'm _engaged_. And I told him that."

"How did he react?" Tami asked, plucking up a fry, taking off the lid of her milkshake, and dipping it in the shake.

"He asked me to marry him."

Tami laughed.

"I told him that was a bit premature. And I told him to cancel the hotel room."

 **[Thursday, April 14]**

"You can spend the last ten minutes getting started on your homework," Tami's Chemistry teacher said.

Tami did not spend the time getting started on her homework. She spent it smiling and sketching a coupon for Eric, on which she wrote: "Good for one blowjob, NOT anywhere or anytime, but after prom, at your house." She drew a smiley face in two corners, and a pair of lips in two more. She put squiggly lines around the border. Then she folded the paper multiple times so that she could tear it along the crease until it was in the shape of a coupon.

Tami didn't know how to crack a combination, but Eric had given her his two weeks ago, so she lay the coupon on top of his government book in his locker before heading off to Algebra II.

At lunch time, Eric slid into the chair across from her, placing his tray down with a light clunk. She stopped talking to Sarah and turned to look at him. Judging from the enormous grin on his face, she was pretty sure he'd found the coupon.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he said back.

"You looking forward to prom?" she asked.

"You have no idea how much."

"We should all go to dinner together first," Joey said. "How about Chili's?"

"That joke's getting old," Sarah told him.

"They just opened an Applebee's last week off 323," Joey said.

"Not romantic, but probably more affordable than the Italian joint," Sarah said. "And it's new, so that's a plus. Do they have good food?"

"I've heard they do," Joey said.

Eric and Tami were both too busy smiling at each other to join the dinner negotiations.


	33. Prom Night - April 15

**[Friday, April 15]**

On prom night, Eric showed up at Tami's house in the same suit he'd worn on Easter. Tami didn't mind. Perhaps he only owned one suit. He had on a different tie this time, however, a dark red one that matched her new dress.

His fierce look of concentration, as he struggled to pin the corsage on her, was adorable. It probably didn't help that the flash kept going off in his eyes as Shelley snapped photo after photo using the camera Eric had lent Tami.

"A very handsome couple," Mrs. Hayes said. "And Eric, you chose such a lovely corsage. It matches her dress wonderfully."

Tami was a bit surprised by the compliment. When Mo had picked her up for the homecoming and junior prom dances last year, her mother had gone through the entire ritual with a tight-lipped, slightly disapproving expression.

Eric stepped back. "Is that a'ight?" he asked. "It's not poking you?"

Tami smiled and shook her head.

"Okay, put your arm around her and smile," Shelley demanded.

It wasn't long before Eric was growing annoyed with the photo taking. "Just one more," Tami whispered in his ear. "For me. Please?"

His peeved expression faded.

"Did your father help you tie that tie just right?" Mrs. Hayes asked him.

"No ma'am," Eric said, avoiding sharing the fact that his father was out of town. "I did it myself."

As they were leaving, Mrs. Hayes said, "Treat her with respect, Eric."

The demand sounded a bit strange coming from her mother, though Tami probably would have thought it perfectly natural if her father had been standing there, speaking those words, and holding Eric's eyes with a look of warning. At moments like these, she felt his loss more keenly. There were so many fatherly firsts he had missed, would yet miss. He would never help her move her furniture into her first apartment, walk her down the aisle at her wedding, or toss a football with his grandson.

"And have her back by midnight," Mrs. Hayes said.

"I will, ma'am. Wouldn't want her to turn into a pumpkin."

"That's the chariot that turns into a pumpkin," Shelley corrected him.

"Mea culpa."

As Eric was opening his truck door for Tami, he must have noticed the hint of sadness in her eyes. "You a'ight? Did I make a bad choice with the corsage?"

"No, sugar, not at all. I love it. I was just wishing my dad could be here to meet you at the door for all this. I think he would have liked you."

"I'm sorry, Tami. You must miss him a whole lot."

She nodded and bit her lip to try to stop from crying. He pulled her close and simply held her. After a minute, she pulled back and wiped a tear from under eye. "Sorry," she said. "Is my mascara running?"

He shook his head. "Nah. You look gorgeous, babe. Every guy is going to be jealous of me tonight. Especially Mo."

"No fighting at prom," she warned him.

"I'm not doing anything to jeopardize your special night."

" _My_ special night, huh?" she teased.

He flushed and grinned.

When he helped her into his truck, which he had taken great care to wash and wax and vacuum, a cinnamon spice air freshner overpowered her senses. She pretended not to find it cloying, but she was glad when she could spill out into the fresh spring evening air again.

 **[*]**

"I wonder what they pay their waitresses," Sarah asked as she looked around the Applebee's. Tami sat across from her, Eric's hand on her knee. They were not the only prom couples in Applebee's tonight, but Tami thought they were the best dressed. Joey had a cute little bow tie on with his suit.

"You're going to UT-Austin in four months," Tami said. "You won't be working in Tyler anymore. But I should probably look into it. If I could make more, that would be great."

"You're staying here?" Joey asked. "In Tyler?"

"It's my most realistic option," Tami told him, "going to Tyler Junior and staying at home until I get my associates."

Eric slid his hand off her knee. He picked up his fork and poked at the pasta he'd ordered. She knew he was still disappointed about her choice. She put a hand on the back of his neck and toyed lightly with his hair. "But I'm going to visit Eric every chance I get."

 **[*]**

The dance was held in the school gym, which had been transformed by the prom committee in accordance with the "cinematic paradise" theme. They'd had a vote in January. Tami, with no plans of attending prom at that time, had voted for the "secret garden" theme instead.

Mo was out there dancing with his latest girlfriend, a lean, blonde girl named Angie whom Tami knew had won a lot of swim medals on the community swim team last summer. Tami wanted to show Mo up, but Eric seemed reluctant to dance.

"I thought you took lessons?" she told him.

"I did. But this songs is too fast. I don't know how to act during fast songs." He glanced at Mo, who was doing a wild twist, then hopping backward and forward, then smiling and headbanging, in his own bold, unabashedly silly, made-up jig. The entertained laughter of not only his girlfriend but several other girls mixed with the music. "Besides, seems to me the whole point of dancing is to be able to touch the person you're dancing with. Let's wait for a slow one. Can I get you some punch?"

Two songs later, he finally took her to the floor, and he wasn't a bad dancer at all, compared to the other guys out there, some of whom didn't seem to know how to lead, or at least not with any semblance of order. Eric was a good leader, Tami thought. It was hard not to want to follow him. "Your dad did you a favor, you know, making you take those lessons."

"I know. If I ever have a son, I'll make him do it too."

"You want kids some day?" Tami wished she hadn't asked the question once it was out. She didn't want to frighten him. She didn't want him to think she was asking in a specific way, as though she was thinking of marrying him. "Hypothetically?"

"Yeah. Sure. When I'm in my thirties, and I've already got some years on in the NFL or at whatever career."

"How many?" she asked.

"Years?"

"Kids."

"Five," he answered.

"Five!" she exclaimed as he twirled her away from the oncoming mass that was Joey and the far more petite Sarah.

"That's enough for a center, fullback, guard, halfback, and a quarterback," Eric said.

Tami chuckled. "You're planning to father your own team?"

He pulled her closer against himself. "Just a good portion of the offense. Why? You don't ever want kids?"

"I want two. One boy and one girl. Four years a part. And I want the boy to be older."

"You planning to become God?"

She laughed. "I realize I might not get precisely what I want."

He looked down at her, his eyes twinkling beneath the disco ball the prom committee had seen fit to install from the ceiling. "I've got precisely what I want, right here, right now."

"You and your silver tongue. Did you kiss the Blarney stone?"

"No, but I'm about to kiss you."

He did, dancing more slowly with her, losing the steps and just swaying in place.

"Get a room!"

Eric pulled away, and Tami saw Mo just to the left of him, dancing with Angie. Mo had actually rented a tux for the affair, which was a bit over the top in Tami's opinion, though she couldn't deny that he looked good in it.

Mo flashed a huge grin. "I'm just kidding with y'all. I want some of that." He bent down and kissed Angie, who tittered. Tami found her giggling to be unnatural, almost rehearsed. She probably wouldn't last long as Mo's girlfriend. Tami had at least had some staying power with him, so she could credit Mo with good taste, if nothing else.

Mo stopped kissing Angie and asked, "Am I gonna see y'all at the after party? My place. My folks are out of town."

"Thanks, Mo," Eric said, "but we have other plans."

Mo looked at him sternly. "If I were you, Eric, I wouldn't go rubbing things in my face."

"If you were _me_ , Mo, then I'd be telling some pretty sweet lies in the locker room."

"What?"

"Eric!" Tami hissed into his ear. "Please don't."

"Nothing," Eric said. "I was trying to make a joke. It wasn't funny. Sorry. Y'all enjoy the party." He danced Tami away. They avoided Mo and Angie for the rest of the night.

 **[*]**

Mo and his latest girlfriend were named prom king and queen.

"Mo always wins these things I guess," Eric muttered.

Eric was admired and respected, and the girls thought he was good-looking, but he wasn't popular in the same way Mo was. Mo had a lot of friends. He was wildly outgoing. He was great with names and faces and even remembered most people's birthdays. Mo sought to be the center of attention, and he succeeded. That was why Tami had first noticed him, after all, at the pool that summer before her junior year. He was laughing loudly and doing flips off the high dive, and after the third time, he came and sat on the empty pool chair to the left of her and said, "Tami Hayes, right?" She wasn't sure why he knew her name, but he was cute, so she'd smiled in answer. He leaned forward, water dripping down his muscular arms. "I'll bet you a soda I can do a belly flop so loud you'll close your eyes in sympathetic pain for 4.5 seconds."

Tami laughed and took the bet, promising to keep her eyes open and watch him the whole time. She lost, but Mo bought her the soda anyway. And why not? He always had money. That was another thing - Mo's father owned rental properties and did quite well for himself, and Mo helped his father with the business, and he was paid handsomely for it. Eric had called it an "allowance," but it wasn't; it was a salary. It was no doubt an excessive one, given the few hours he worked, but Mo did help his father. As a teenager, he was already clever when it came to business. So Mo drove a sexy car; he threw parties; he brought the beer to other people's parties; and he often picked up the tab when a group of friends went out. He was like a social director, too, always coming up with new ideas for fun and organizing impromptu outings.

Eric, on the other hand, drew attention to himself through his success as an athlete, but otherwise remained somewhat in the background. Everyone knew who he was, but few truly knew _him_. He was confident, and he wanted to be acknowledged for his talents, but he didn't intentionally draw attention to those accomplishments. He participated in the social scene, but he didn't orchestrate it. He was polite, but he wasn't particularly friendly. He didn't actively seek out friendships, but sometimes friendships grew up around him, as his bond with Joey had.

Eric watched as the crown was pushed down on Mo's head. "He's got nothing on me," Eric muttered. "I mean, damn, I'm with the prettiest girl in this room. What more does a king need, than the perfect queen?"

Tami laughed. "I'd rather be your queen any day than be prom queen."

Erick jerked his head toward the dance floor. "Music's starting again." He held out his arm formally. "May I have this dance, m'lady?"

 **[*]**

Eric and Tami were both smiling when they got to his house at 10:15 PM. She excused herself to use the restroom. When she came out and down the hall, he was standing in the door frame of his bedroom, his shoes and socks off, but his suit still on, just grinning.

He stepped back, and Tami followed him in. He fished into his suit pocket and handed her the coupon. The room was dark, except for about six candles that were positioned on his desk and dresser.

"You lit candles?" she asked.

"I wanted to make it romantic," he said.

"A romantic blowjob?"

His smile faltered. "I …I want you to enjoy yourself, too, Tami."

"I will," she told him with an affectionate smile. She slipped out of her shoes and put them to the side of the room, against the wall. "I don't want to mess up my new dress. Do you mind if I take it off?"

He laughed giddily. "No. Not at all."

She walked to him, turned around, and held up her hair. "You have to unzip me."

She was surprised how long he fumbled at the zipper before he got it down. He was not as assertive and commanding as he was during their past _sessions_. He seemed almost nervous.

She turned around to face him and let the dress slide to the ground. She had grown more bold and confident during each of their make-out sessions, and it felt good to take the lead tonight. She stepped out of her dress while he watched, his eyes darkening. She'd chosen a black bra and panties.

She draped the dress on the headboard of his bed. Then she slid his jacket off and draped it over her dress. He stood in front of the dresser, half leaning against it. Tami undid his tie slowly, but left it hanging loosely about his neck. She liked it like that. She didn't know why, but it turned her on, to see him that way, his suit still on, but a little disheveled. She kissed him as she unbuckled his belt.

"I'm not an expert," she told him as she popped the button of his suit trousers. "Just so you know."

"You're more experienced than I am."

She smiled.

"I mean, I've never _had_ one," he clarified.

She laughed. "Well, I'll do my best."

"Tami," he said, "You're so beautiful. So wonderful. Whatever you do to me…." He tittered as she pulled his zipper down, as though he couldn't quite control what was coming out of his mouth.

She slid her hand into his boxers.

He closes his eyes and swallowed hard. "Yes," he said.

"I want to do this," she told him as she pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees. "I want to give you this."

She slid to her knees on the soft, brown and white, shag carpet of his bedroom floor. She swirled her tongue. He hissed and leaned all the way back against the dresser. Placing a hand on the top of her head, he said, "God, yes, Tami. Whatever you do to me, I'm going to love it."

And then she took control of him.

Tami was exhilarated by the sexual power she knew she wielded over him. She wanted to make his toes curl, and she did. She made even more words than usual spill out of his mouth. She made his knees buckle, and his head snap back, and his heart race. She made him shout her name, and shout to God, as his entire body shuddered.

When he'd recovered, he took off his clothes, put on a pair of sweat shorts, and then took her to his bed. He slid off her panties and returned the favor, until she too was shuddering. They spooned together silently for some minutes afterward.

He spoke first. "Thank you."

"Did it come anywhere near your fantasy?" she asked.

"You _are_ my fantasy," he said, and kissed her bare shoulder, just to the left of her bra strap. He hadn't taken it off, though he'd dipped his hand inside while was pleasuring her. He seemed to like her in this state of half undress.

"You have some decent lines," she told him, chuckling.

He kissed her. "This one isn't a line. Listen. I love you. I've never felt like this before about anyone. And I want you to be near me. I want you to apply to that community college in Waco. I'm asking you to. For me. For...for us."

"Eric – "

"-I don't want to lose you. I don't want to risk a long distance relationship. I _need_ you near me."

"I told you it's not practical. My mom and Shelley and I are barely scrapping by together, and we're sharing living expenses. If I leave that equation and try to live separately…." She shook her head. "I need to be realistic here, Eric."

"Just apply, please. And when you get accepted, think about it. Just promise me you'll _think_ some more about it. That's all I'm asking."

"Okay," she said, more because she didn't want to upset him than because she thought it was a reasonable idea. "I'll put the application in the mail tomorrow." They could have this argument again in a month, she supposed. And she could tell him once again that she was going to Tyler. Maybe the fact that she had at least considered the idea of Waco more seriously would be enough to reassure him that she was serious about him. She kissed him. "I love you, Eric."


	34. April 16 - 24

**[Saturday, April 16]**

Tami was happy that Mrs. Hernandez recognized her this morning, although she called her Tanya. But she seemed to know who she was, more or less, and she even asked, "And how is Tanya's football player?"

"He's doing great. Really good," she laughed. "We had a good prom night."

"Did he get laid?"

Tami laughed. "Not exactly, but…closer to it anyway. He was pretty happy about it."

"Good. Don't give him too much too fast, dearie. Men are like dogs. You've got to train them. Hold those treats back. Just parcel them out a little at a time, when they perform well."

Tami laughed. Then she did what she often did: she used Mrs. Hernandez as her sounding board. "Eric really wants me to go to college near him. I don't know how to get through to him that I just can't afford to do that. There are books, fees, rent, utilities, groceries…" She sighed. "I don't think he really gets just how poor my family is. I know he has a single parent, too, and his dad never went to college either, but he makes three times as much as my mom, at _least_."

"Well, it's not awful that your boyfriend really wants to be near you, dearie."

"I know. It's just not realistic. I think he's being immature about it. I mean, I know why. He had a long-term girlfriend who wanted to date other guys after she'd been in college for a couple of years. I wish I could convince him I'm not _her_. I mean, I don't think he's Mo. I don't think he's going to cheat on me, the way Mo did. I wish he trusted me as much as I trusted him."

"How do I put this? Relationships don't just spring full-formed like Athena from Zeus's head."

"What?"

"I guess you're not reading any Greek mythology in that English class of yours."

"No," Tami admitted, but she smiled to think that Mrs. Hernandez remembered she'd been reading her texts from her English class.

"How old are you, dearie?"

"Eighteen," Tami said.

"Eighteen." She patted Tami's knee. "You're still a romantic. You think there's **_the one_ ** don't you? That one guy for every girl?"

"Well….maybe."

"There's not," Mrs. Hernandez said. "There's 232 guys for every girl, and 357 girls for every guy."

Tami assumed this was one of Mrs. Hernandez's dementia moments.

The woman leaned forward in her wheel chair. "You pick someone, and you make a go of it, dearie. You pick someone, and as long as he's not Mr. _Wrong_ , and as long as you make the _effort_ , then he _could_ be Mr. Right. But if _you_ don't make the effort, he'll end up somebody else's Mr. Right."

"I'll put a lot of effort into the relationship when we're apart."

"I'm sure you will, dearie, but what your football player probably knows is that it's a lot _easier_ to put effort in the relationship when you're _there_. Out of sight, out of mind. There's something to that phrase."

"You don't think we can make it work long distance?"

"I think you can. I just don't think it's going to be nearly as easy as you seem to think it is." Mrs. Hernandez blinked a couple of times. "What was I saying?"

"You were talking about how difficult long-distance relationships can be."

"Tanya, I want to play some Gin Rummy."

Tami smiled. "I'll get the cards."

 **[Thursday, April 21]**

Tami was waiting at Eric's locker before first period. He smiled when he saw her and kissed her.

She held up the letter from Tyler Junior Community College. "I got in!"

Not that that was an accomplishment, given that the college was open admissions, but she thought he might be proud of her for the next part.

"And they're giving me a 25% tuition waiver for all four semesters because of my verbal SAT score! With my photography scholarship money, I won't have to start paying any tuition for a full year!"

He didn't congratulate her as she expected. He held the letter in his hand, reading it quietly. "Has Waco offered you any scholarship money?"

"I haven't heard back from Waco Community yet. But _this_ is a good offer, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He handed her back the letter.

 **[Saturday, April 23]**

"My football player is gone today," Tami told Mrs. Hernandez. "He's in Waco, to see Baylor's spring game. I think he's taking notes. And then he's going to meet with the team and the coaches. He'll be playing there soon."

They'd be able to fool around tomorrow night, though. Eric's dad was dating again, going out, Eric suspected, with that nurse he'd met on Easter, though he only claimed to be working.

"What are you doing here, Maude?" Mrs. Hernandez asked. "I told you I never wanted to see you again."

"Mrs. Hernandez, I'm not Maude. It's me, Tami, your _friend_."

"Call yourself my friend, steal my husband from me!"

"Mrs. Hernandez – "

"- Get out!" she screamed. "Just get out!"

Tami, shaken, stood. She picked up her backpack and walked to the door, holding back her tears.

Just as she was walking out, Mrs. Hernandez said, "Tanya, aren't you going to read to me today?"

Tami paused in the doorway. She turned. "Yeah. I have some Emily Dickinson poetry if you like."

"Because I could not stop for Death," Mrs. Hernandez recited, waving her hand in the air like a composer, "He kindly stopped for me. The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality!"

Tami sat back down in the chair and dug the anthology out from her backpack.

 **[Sunday, April 24]**

Tami's head rested on Eric's bare chest. He stroked her hair. He'd received his second blowjob _ever_ this evening _,_ courtesy of her, and she'd done a pretty amazing job, if she did say so herself. He'd thanked her profusely.

She was also well satisfied from his oral administrations, and she had almost drifted off to sleep in his arms. "I think we better get dressed," she said, "Or I'm going to doze off and miss curfew."

They dressed and made their way to the kitchen, where he poured her some sweet tea and got himself a beer.

"It's so weird that your dad doesn't care if you drink."

"He cares if I get drunk. I had a hangover once. He made me run three miles at 5 AM the next day. _With_ the hangover. He says I can get a little buzzed if I want, but I shouldn't get so drunk I can't function easily the next day. Says it's irresponsible and bad for my game in the long run."

Tami sat down at the kitchen table and sipped her tea.

Eric sat down across from her. "You hear back from Waco Community College yet?"

She looked in her glass. She did not want to have this argument again. "I did. They accepted me."

"Fantastic!"

"It's open admission. It's not an accomplishment."

"Yeah, but," he smiled, "that means you could possibly go to a school just 15 minutes from Baylor. We could see each other all the time."

She sighed. "Eric, they only offered me a 10% tuition waiver to Tyler's 25%. And the tuition is _already_ higher than Tyler. I'd have to get an apartment too. You don't understand how expensive that is. Your scholarship covers housing. And meals."

"You can get, like, two or three roommates. Share the rent."

"It will cost me very little to live with my mom. She's paid off the mortgage. She just has utilities and property tax."

"Tami, I can't do a long distance relationship again. Two and a half hours _one way_. That's how far away you'd be. That's how far away Laura was."

She pushed her glass aside. "Don't you trust me?"

"It's not about trust."

"What's it about, then?"

"It's about wanting to be with you. Needing to be with you. It's about how people grow apart when they live in different worlds."

"We won't grow apart. I'm not Laura. Our relationship is better than that."

He pushed his beer aside. "What if it's not? What if we need to be near each other to keep it strong?"

A breath escaped her mouth and she shook her head. "You don't think it's _already_ strong? You don't love me?"

"Yes, I love you, Tami," he said softly. "More than I've ever loved anyone. But I loved Laura too. Not as much, probably, but I did love her."

"I'm not Laura, damn it!"

"I know you're not Laura."

"I wish you believed in me!" Tami was trying not to cry now.

"I wish you loved me enough to come to Waco for me!"

"Eric, I do love you. I – "

"- I can't do it!" He stood up and dug a hand into his hair. "I'm not that strong, Tami. I can't…I can't worry like that. Wonder. Is she falling for someone else because I'm not around? Is she going to forget me? Is she…I'm not that strong, Tami! I can't do it again!"

"Well you have to do it. Because this is the way it has to be. I can't just pack up and move for you, Eric. I have to follow a reasonable plan. I have to be responsible. You don't know what it's like, what it's really like, to be poor for years!"

"We're hardly rich!"

"You're hardly poor either, Eric. But I _am_. And I'm working my way out. I'm getting out! I'm not going to spiral into debt living beyond my means in Waco when I can work my way out here in Tyler. I will _not_ be poor for years and years to come. I won't do it!"

He shook his head. "You can take out loans for the tuition. Use whatever money you make and have saved for living expenses. You can pay the tuition back when you have a good job."

"Or I can do the responsible thing, and get through two years of community college with little to no debt. I can take the Tyler scholarship and share expenses here. My mom _needs_ me, too, Eric. I don't know if she can support Shelley on her own. I really don't! I give her part of my earnings every week. Do you know that?"

"I didn't know that. But maybe Shelley can step up."

"She'll be 15, Eric. She can only make so much. I'm going to Tyler, and I will see you as often as I can. We can make this work, we really can."

He paced to the refrigerator, turned around, and came back. He held a hand out over the table. "No," he said.

"What?"

"No. You have to go to Waco Community."

"You can't just tell me what to do! Is that what I'm supposed to do? Whatever you _tell_ me to do? What am I?"

"My girlfriend."

"Your girlfriend. That means I just revolve my whole life around you, does it? Even when it's not practical?" Tami was standing now. She didn't know how this fight had escalated out of control. Her adrenaline was pumping. She had a flight or fight mechanism raging now, and she was choosing fight.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Give up a full scholarship, a place on a college team, and stay in Tyler?"

"No! I would never ask that of you. You're supposed to go to Baylor. Keep seeing me. Stay faithful. What, you don't think you can stay faithful? You want to cheat on me?"

"How dare you," he said. "I'm not Mo. I'm not anything like Mo McArnold! I. do. not. cheat. "

"Then you must think I do."

"That's not what this is about." He bit down on his teeth. His nostrils flared. He shook his head. "You know what? I'm not doing this again. I'm just not."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if this is what you want, Tyler Junior, if that's what you're going to do, we might as well end it now."

"What are you saying?" she asked.

"I'm saying we're over."

"What?"

"We're over. You and I. Enjoy Tyler Community College. Enjoy living with your mom. Enjoy choosing practicality over _me_. You enjoy that choice, Tami. You _enjoy_ it."

"That's it? I don't agree with you about this so you're _breaking up_ with me?" A laughlike, angry breath escaped her mouth. "Fuck you!"

She opened the kitchen door. When she slammed it behind herself, the entire house shuddered.


	35. April 25- 30

**[Monday, April 25]**

Tami stayed home sick from school. She hadn't fallen asleep until 3 AM in the morning, because she'd been crying so much.

Today, she dragged herself out of bed at noon and ate a bowl of imitation Cheerios, using the powdered milk Mom had bought in bulk on discount. She hated the taste of powdered milk. It was always just a little off. Eric always had fresh milk in his refrigerator. He probably didn't even know what powdered milk tasted like. Just take out loans, he'd said. Just go into debt. Just let Mom and Shelley live on less per week. Just let them hit the church food pantry. La-de-da. Don't worry about it. Mr. Full Scholarship. He didn't have a _clue_. Her car was hanging by a thread. What was she going to do when she needed new tires?

She started crying again. Her tears dripped into the water-mixed milk, onto the imitation cheerios. Like it made a difference. That stuff tasted like crap anyway. Why had she bought that damn VCR? She could have used that money for…for what? Not for gas to visit Eric at Baylor. He'd broken up with her.

Screw him.

Tami went back to bed.

She woke up when Shelley plopped down on the foot of her bed. Tami rolled over and muttered, "What time is it?"

"2:58. I just got home from school. What the hell is going on with you? Are you really that sick? You need me to make some chicken broth, or something?"

"Eric broke up with me," Tami said.

"What? The bastard! Who is he cheating with? I'll claw her fucking eyes out!"

"No one. He's not cheating."

"Oh."

Tami dragged herself up into a sitting position.

"So…why did he break up with you?"

"Because I won't follow him to Waco and go to community college there."

"And why won't you do that? Don't you _want_ to be near him?"

"I can't afford to!" Tami wiped her eyes. "I can't go there and go into debt to cover my college and living expenses. I have to do the smart thing. I've spent too many years doing the thing that feels good at the moment, and most of the time, I've regretted it. I can't be that girl anymore. I can't get stuck doing irresponsible things."

Shelley sighed. "I hear you. You have to do what you have to do." She pulled her legs up and sat cross legged on the end of the bed. Her bottom lip trembled. "You ever wonder how different our lives might have been if Dad had lived?"

"All the time," Tami admitted.

"I know it's been over six years, but I still miss him so much. Sometimes I forget him, and then sometimes, it just hits me, all of the sudden, so hard." Shelley started crying. Tami switched positions, slid close to her, and put an arm around her. Shelley leaned against her big sister. "Oh fuck," Shelley cried. "I'm supposed to be comforting you," she said. "Why do you always have to do the grown-up shit?"

 **[Tuesday, April 26]**

Sarah looked around the lunchroom. "Where's Eric?" she asked.

"Said he had to study during lunch the next couple of days," Joey said. "Some big test or something. I don't know why he cares. Year's almost over. As long as he doesn't fail, they aren't going to revoke his scholarship. I think he'd have to really screw up to fail."

Tami pushed her apple sauce around with a spoon. "He's just avoiding me," she said. "Because we broke up."

"Why ? ! " Joey and Sarah asked simultaneously.

She explained.

"What a jerk," Sarah said. "If he really loved you, he'd bother to try to make it work long distance."

Joey looked up toward the cafeteria ceiling, as though maybe he had a different opinion but wasn't going to dare to contradict Sarah.

"That's what I thought," Tami said. "That's _exactly_ what I thought."

"Didn't you get that $500 scholarship money?" Joey asked softly. "That could help."

"That's not even one semester of tuition, Joey," she told him.

"Your mom's a teacher," Sarah told Joey. "Your dad's an account. They both have college degrees. You have _no idea_ what it's like to be working class, do you?"

Joey shrugged.

"And you just got a _full_ academic scholarship to UT-Austin," Sarah continued. "I only got 50%. Even though I'm number 1 in class rank and you're number 2. _And_ I got ten points higher on the SAT."

"Are you suggesting I only got that scholarship because I'm black?"

"No. You got it because you're super smart," Sarah said. " _And_ black."

" ** _And_ ** I have solid extracurriculars. I played _**football**_. I was in Spanish Club for three years, and Amnesty International. What clubs were you in, huh, Sarah?"

"I had to work. Because I don't _get_ an allowance like you."

"Fine," he said. "I don't know what it's like to be working class. But you know what? I _do_ know what it's like to be in love and to feel like you'll never be loved back as much as you love. So you two girls should cut Eric some slack." He stood up and seized his tray and stomped off, slowly.

"I don't think that was about Eric," Tami said.

Sarah sighed. "I want to fall in love with him, Tami, I do. I _want_ to."

"But you can't, so you figure if you treat him like crap, he'll stop loving you?"

"I didn't mean to fight just now. I'm usually nicer. I really _want_ to love him."

Tami shrugged. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

"What does your heart want?" Sarah asked her.

 _Eric_ , it still sung. _Eric, Eric, Eric._ "An antacid," Tami said. "You have any Tums? This pizza sucks."

 **[Wednesday, April 27]**

Tami and Sarah ate alone at the lunch table today. Eric was out sick from school, flu, supposedly. Joey was out sick too. It was a suspicious coincidence.

"Think they're hanging out together?" Sarah asked. "Doing some football brother stupid thing? Getting a tattoo or something?"

"The day Eric gets a tattoo is the day pig's fly," Tami said.

"I called Joey last night. We're going to the movies Friday. Sometimes I wonder if I'm going to miss out on some other guy because I'm dating him. But there's really no other guy I like either."

"You'll both find other people in college," Tami said. "It'll work itself out."

"Really? But isn't that what you said _wouldn't_ happen if you and Eric tried the long-distance thing?"

"Well, I'd be committed to making it work. I wouldn't let myself think about anyone else."

"What does that mean?" Sarah said. "Being committed to making it work? Wouldn't it show you were committed if you'd been willing to move to Waco for him? If you just bit the bullet? Took on the debt? Let your mom and sister figure it out on their own?"

"Wait, I thought you were on _my_ side," Tami said. "Whose side are you on?"

"I'm not on anybody's side. I'm rooting for the _team_."

 **[Thursday, April 28]**

Joey was back at the lunch table with Sarah and Tami today. "You hang out with Eric yesterday?" Sarah asked him.

"Maybe," Joey said.

"And what did you do?" Sarah asked.

"We might have gone shooting. Tami, he's miserable right now."

"Yeah? And what am I supposed to do about that?" Tami asked.

"Where is he today?" Sarah asked.

"Home sick."

"Playing sick," Sarah said.

"I'm not so sure he's playing," Joey told her. "There's more than one kind of sick."

 **[Friday, April 29]**

After first period, Tami shut her locker to find Eric standing there.

"Tami, can we talk?"

"I have nothing to talk to you about," she said. "I tried talking to you, and all you did was yell."

"You did some yelling of your own, Tami."

"After you broke up with me."

"That's what I want to talk about."

"Screw you!" She turned on her heels and walked away.

Tami got her Algebra II test back, finally, during 2nd period. A 69 percent. She wasn't surprised. She'd taken the make-up test on Tuesday, after missing school Monday, and she'd been completely unable to concentrate after the break-up.

It didn't matter. She had a B+ so far this quarter. She'd pull a B by the end of the quarter, and a C+ for the year. She'd pass. She'd get her diploma.

And do what with it, exactly?

Tyler Junior Community college? And who would help her study there? Who would encourage her and make her think she could get a "kick ass GPA" and transfer somewhere better?

Who would kiss her every time she got a problem right?

 **[*]**

Tami saw Eric again toward the end of the day, talking to a cheerleader in the hallway outside of his Physics class. Her heart seized in on itself. The cheerleader was laughing at something he said and touching his shoulder, the way girls do when they're saying, "I like you. You could totally make out with me if you wanted."

Eric caught Tami's eye, looked at her sadly, and bit his bottom lip. He said something to the cheerleader and disappeared into his classroom, leaving the cheerleader in the hall. As she walked by Tami, she paused and asked, "I heard a rumor that you and Eric broke up. Is it true?"

"I'm sorry," Tami said, "Do I even know you?"

 **[Saturday, April 30]**

Tami didn't really want to go into the nursing home this morning. She wasn't feeling like smiling at the residents, or laughing at Mrs. Hernandez's silly claims of grandeur. But she went anyway. She was possibly going to be old and alone one day herself, and she would hate it if no one visited her.

Besides, maybe Mrs. Hernandez would have some advice about how to heal a twice broken heart, especially when the second break was such a horrendous one. Mrs. Hernandez had, as she said, "been around the block a few times," and she'd made it to 90. In fact, her 91st birthday was tomorrow.

Tami waved and chatted with some of the residents in the breakfast room and helped them open apple sauce and other packages their shaking hands couldn't quite manage, but Mrs. Hernandez wasn't there.

After breakfast, Tami sought her out in her room. When she went through the open doorway, the room was bare of all of Mrs. Hernandez's mementos, and the bed was stripped.

"I thought of calling you," came Tom's voice from behind her.

Tami felt the grief welling up inside, like a rising tide, ready to break. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not on top of losing Eric. Not this week, not this morning, not this moment. It _couldn't_ be happening.

"She went peacefully," Tom said softly. "Yesterday afternoon. The family is holding a memorial service on Monday evening, at First Presbyterian. I'm sure they'd welcome you."

"She had a family?" Why in the hell had Mrs. Hernandez never mentioned them? Why had Tami never seen any evidence of their visits – no cards, no flowers, no signatures in the guest book?

What the fuck was wrong with people?

Why was her whole world crashing down?

Tami pushed past Tom. He called after her, but she went from a brisk walk to a jog. She didn't even remember driving home. Her face was blotched and covered with tears when she pulled into the gravel driveway by their little house, and she didn't even know how she'd seen through that haze, how she'd gotten here.

Mom was at work, picking up an extra shift, when she got in. Shelley was talking on the living room phone, giggling and saying, "Oh, Kash, you're so funny!"

Tami blew past her to her own bedroom, where she threw herself face down on the half-made bed and cried for she didn't know how long.


	36. Saturday, April 30

**[Saturday, April 30 con't]**

"What are you doing?" Shelley asked.

Tami was shoving her father's old camping equipment, which she'd pulled out of the attic, into the trunk of her sedan. "Mrs. Hernandez died," she told Shelley. "I feel like I just need to be alone tonight. I'm going to the spot where Dad used to take us camping."

The spot was a little alcove in the woods by the lake, what he'd called their "secret paradise," a pretty green splash of soft grass in the midst of an otherwise rocky shore, nestled in a circle of trees, just beyond the water, with a view of the lake through an opening in the foliage. Tami went there every now and then, when she was feeling down, swam in the lake, hiked back into the "secret paradise," lay a towel on the grass, and looked up at the clear Texas sky.

She'd thought of taking Mo there once, when he'd wanted to fool around. She'd wanted more space than a car, and she'd considered the secret paradise, but she hadn't taken him in the end. That was _her_ place. She wasn't going to let Mo in there. The secret paradise was for contemplation and healing, not for merely messing around.

She'd spent an hour or two there, over the past few years, but she hadn't spent a full night there since the last time her father had taken her camping, on her 12th birthday, the week before the accident that took his life. Just the two of them had gone that year, though he'd taken Shelley on past trips.

Dad had sat beside her on the big, flat rock that overlooked the opening in the foliage that peeked like a periscope on the lake. He'd told her, "Tami toes, my princess, you're growing up. And it scares me. But I know you have to, and one day," he stretched his arm out, pointing through the opening in the trees to the vast lake of rippling green-black water, and then pointed up to the Texas sky, which was dancing with stars, "you're going to _own_ this world, princess."

Tami had laughed, and called him ridiculous, and he'd said, "You have no idea what you can accomplish, Tami, if you just put your mind to it. No idea. There's something special about you. I know you think every dad says that of his daughter, but…" He shook his head. "You know how to love, Tami. You know how to love this world. So love it. When you grow up, love all the broken people in it."

It wasn't until she was a bit older that she realized his whimsicalism that night might have had something to do with the six pack of beer he'd drained while he was setting up the camp.

Shelley crossed her arms over her chest now and peered in the trunk with concern.

"Please tell Mom I'm spending the night at Sarah's tonight," Tami told her. "I already called Sarah and told her to cover for me if Mom calls."

"Tami…I don't know that it's a good idea for you to be out there alone in the woods."

"It's fine. We've never come across anything but a rabbit and some nonpoisonous snakes back there."

"What if there's some crazy guy out there?"

"There's no crazy guy out there, Shelley. I need this! Okay?"

"Okay, Tam." Shelley stepped forward and hugged her. It wasn't often they hugged. "I love you, sis," Shelley said. "Be careful."

Tami got in her sedan, cranked the sorry engine to a start, and drove toward the lake.

 **[*]**

It was getting dark. Tami had gotten the tent up, after much struggling, but she couldn't keep the fire going. She hated herself for not being able to. Her father had taught her how. She wasn't a stupid, incompetent girl. She could do things. Why wouldn't the goddamn fire stay lit?

She threw the thick box of matches on the ground and screamed, "Fucking useless matches!"

Fine. She'd just eat the hot dogs without cooking them, if she ate at all. And she'd use the flashlight to get settled in the tent. She didn't need the fire for heat, anyway, not in April. It was fine.

Then why was she so angry at the twigs, lying in a haphazard pile in the midst of the unbroken circle of stones? Why were the tears breaking out again, over a fire that wouldn't stay lit?

She stared at the circle of gray and white stones and thought of one of the hymns they'd sung at Dad's funeral:

 _Will the circle be unbroken, by and by, Lord, by and by…._

Would it? she wondered. Would she ever see her father again? Mrs. Hernandez? Eric? Eric was alive, of course, but would she ever see him again? _Really_ see him?

"Tami."

She yelped at the sudden sound of a human voice.

"Shhh!" Eric put a hand on her shoulder. "It's just me."

She had no idea why he was here, how he had gotten here, what he wanted, what lay ahead of them…she didn't know anything, but she threw herself in his arms, like she was drowning, and let go the flood gate holding back her tears, and when he held her tight, and said, "Shhh….Shhhhhh….I'm here. I'm here," she felt that massive wave of sorrow begin to ebb.

 **[*]**

Tami made her way back from the water, where she'd gone to wash her face after crying for a while in Eric's arms. The ray of her flashlight penetrated the growing darkness, weaving a path of light for her feet, and eventually hitting the light from the fire he'd built while she was gone to the water. She clicked the flashlight off.

Eric had pulled a log in front of the fire, and was sitting on it. She sat down beside him, close by, almost touching his leg with her own, and laced her fingers together. She must look awful, she thought, her face blotched, her hair a mess, wearing her I-don't-care-if-they-get-dirty camping clothes.

"So…what are you doing here?" she asked. "How did you find me? Where's your truck?"

 _Do you still love me?_

That last one she didn't ask.

"My dad saw the obituary in the paper, when he was reading it at dinner. He remembered you mentioning her, so he told me about it. I knew you'd be really upset. I know how important she was to you. I...I was worried about you being really sad. So I called you at home. Shelley told me about this place, more or less where it was. I parked probably a mile back because I wasn't sure how to find it. I walked around, looking for a sign of a camp site, a fire or a trail or something. Eventually I heard you shouting at the matches."

He inched a little closer, so that his shoulder was just barely touching hers. Tami wanted to be angry with him, to yell at him for the way he'd dumped her, to tell him to go away.

But she needed him too much.

"I'm sorry about Mrs. Hernandez," he said softly. "I was worried about you being out here alone." He cautiously put an arm around her shoulder.

She thought of shaking it off, but she couldn't. It felt too comforting.

"I was worried about you hurting," he said.

She turned her face toward his.

He kissed her as if he didn't know how to do anything else but kiss her in that moment. It was so natural, so fitting, his lips on hers. She didn't want him to end up somebody else's Mr. Right.

The kiss broke, and he pressed his forehead to hers, a hand on her cheek. "I'm so sorry I broke up with you. I know life hasn't been easy for you. I know you have real financial concerns. I'm sorry I wasn't more sensitive to that. It's just that...well...every woman leaves me."

Tami pulled away. "What do you mean?"

"My mom didn't want me from the start. Then my grandma died. Then my aunt moved. Then Laura dumped me, or might as well have. I guess I thought it would be easier if I just lost you now, than if it happened a year or two from now, when I was even deeper in. But last week was so awful, Tami. I love you so much. I want to take the gamble. I want to date you as long as you're willing to be with me, however far apart we are. Will you _please_ take me back?"

Under some other circumstance, she might have tried to punish him. But here, now, in the midst of her loss, it was so clear to her how much better he made her feel - about herself, about life, about loss, about everything. It was so clear to her how much he'd been aching, how scared he was, and how tenderly he felt toward her. "Yes," she said. "I forgive you."

He kissed her again.

"I saw you talking to some cheerleader at school."

"She's nobody, Tami. Just some girl who started a conversation with me. I don't even like her. I mean, I don't dislike her. But she's nobody."

"I figured. It still made me…scared? I guess because I realized you could move on."

"I don't want to move on."

They sat quietly for a while, looking at the fire, his arm around her. She told him she was hungry, and they roasted the hot dogs she had in the cooler and drank some water. She talked about Mrs. Hernandez, about how the woman made her laugh and how she made her think. "I'm going to go to the memorial service on Monday."

"Want me to come with you?" he asked.

"Would you?"

"Of course." He leaned his head against hers. "I don't want you here alone. I'm going to stay here with you tonight. A'ight?"

She nodded.

 **[*]**

When Eric came into the tent after dampening the fire, she was in her Tyler Tigers t-shirt and the sweats she'd brought to sleep in. She must be incredibly un-sexy right now, she thought. She had the sleeping bag unzipped and spread out so they could both lie on it, with the light blanket she'd brought on top. Her flashlight lantern was on, lighting up the inside of the tent. She'd brought two pillows for herself, and instead of stacking them, put one next to hers for him.

"I'm just gonna sleep in my boxers if that's a'ight," he said. "It's kind of warm. I didn't bring anything."

"That's fine." She watched him strip, fold his clothes neatly, and lay them in the corner of the tent. He settled in next to her on the sleeping bag, and she switched off the lantern. Starlight filtered through the thin tent, enough for her to make out the shape of him as she eased into his arms and rested her head on his chest.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for coming, and thank you for staying."

He rolled to face her and kissed her. Their kisses began slowly and gently, but they grew in intensity. He caressed her cheek, toyed with her hair, and stroked her lower arm. Eventually, he shifted his position. She could tell he'd done it so she wouldn't feel how hard he'd grown, but she did feel him, against her leg.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I know it's not the right time. I'm just here for you. I can't help that. Ignore that."

"It's okay. Maybe I don't want you to help it." She slid a hand inside his boxers and grasped him.

He groaned. "Tami…"

She silenced him with a kiss and stroked him slowly for a moment. Then she slid her hand out of his boxers, took off her shirt, and tossed it to the corner of the tent. She shimmied out of her sweats and panties, and, naked, rolled back to him and kissed him again. Tami pressed herself against his erection, which threatened to protrude from the flap of his boxers, held together as it was by a single button.

"Tami," he murmured. "This is dangerous."

"Don't you have a condom in your wallet?"

He breathed in her ear, a sigh of desire and surprise and maybe remorse. "Yeah, but…you're vulnerable right now. You're upset. Do you really want this?"

"I do, Eric. I want you close. I want you inside me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I need you tonight."

He rolled quickly to his side, reached across the tent, and snatched up his jeans. He dug out his wallet, and, from it, a foil packet, which he set between them on the sleeping bag.

When he was face to face with her again, he kissed her and caressed her breasts until she was whimpering.

He picked up the packet again and ripped it open, asking, "You want to put it on me?"

"I don't really…I only had sex the _one_ time."

He put the condom on himself while he kissed her neck. "You want to be on top?" he asked. "Or under me? Or you want it from the side?"

She blushed, suddenly aware of how much less experienced she was than him. "I don't know. Which is better?"

He laughed, a low, sexy, happy sound. "Whichever one you want is better, Tami."

"I just…I just want you to be in charge," she told him. "I trust you."

"Yeah?" He put a hand between her legs on her bare, inner thigh.

"Yes," she said as he spread her legs gently open. "Tutor me, Eric."


	37. May 1 - 7

**[Sunday, May 1]**

Tami awoke to the sound of birds chirping and bright sunlight streaming through the fabric of the tent. She rolled over and saw that Eric was gone. She had to pee horribly.

She threw on her t-shirt and sweat pants and made her way out of the tent. She saw Eric sitting on the log by the dead fire, in his jeans and t-shirt from yesterday, staring off through the opening at the view of the lake. He turned when he heard her and opened his mouth, but she said, "I'll be right back!" before he could say anything.

She grabbed her backpack and made her way into the woods for the bathroom, and then later down to a secluded inlet of the lake, where she took a quick skinny dip after ensuring no one was around, threw on fresh clothes, brushed her hair, ate a mint, and generally tried to make herself more presentable.

When she returned to the campsite, Eric was still on the log, but he was leaned forward now, his hands laced together, his head bent.

She slid onto the log next to him. "Hey. You okay?" she asked.

He sat up straight. "Yeah. I was just praying."

"You pray?"

Tami went to church every Sunday with her mother, but she didn't often pray outside of those pews. And here was Eric, who had only gone to youth group to get closer to Laura, and who had been to church maybe six times last year with his father, praying as the sun finished rising on the horizon.

"Yeah, sure, when I need to."

"What were you praying?" Only after it was out did she realize how intensely personal the question was.

He put a hand down on the log near her. "That you won't regret last night."

His eyes searched hers. She understood what Mrs. Hernandez had meant now, about a man's eyes saying more than his mouth.

Her lip quivered a little. "You have such an amazing heart, Eric." She leaned in and kissed him, slowly and tenderly. "I want to show you I don't have any regrets."

She took his hand and tugged him into a standing position with her. "You have another condom, right?" She smiled. "Your dad told you to keep two in your wallet at all times?"

He grinned. "Yeah."

She led him back to the tent.

The second time was even better than the first. She felt more confident now and more attractive after a night of sleep and bathing in the lake.

Tami told him where she wanted to be touched and kissed, and he fulfilled her every request. He guided her in rolling the condom onto him, breathing harder at her touch, and after he had eased inside her, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved deliberately, not putting his weight on her, but instead holding himself up by the palms of his hands, as if he were doing a kind of plank.

"You're so strong, Eric" she told him, running her hands along the straining muscles in his arms and moving to match his rhythm. "Strong and gentle at the same time. I love it. I love you. I love the feel of you. I want you."

He closed his eyes at the sound of her voice. She could tell how much her spoken desire excited him. He was trying to control himself, pace himself, for her.

"Eric, baby, make me cum." She jerked her hips faster. "I want to cum for you."

"Yes..." His breath grew more ragged even as her own desire mounted. "Only for me, Tami. Only for me."

 **[*]**

Eric lay on his back afterward, his chest rising and falling as he returned to a near regular breathing pattern. Tami kissed his chest and said, "We should talk about the future. I mean, how we're going to handle the long distance thing. How soon I can get to Waco."

"You mean you _are_ going to try to get to Waco?"

"My first year at Tyler Junior, I'm going to get that kick-ass GPA you said I'd get. And I'm going to write some awesome essays, like I did for _Wuthering Heights_ , and then see if I can get some grants and scholarships and transfer to Baylor. We'd just be apart _one_ year, if I can do it. Think you can handle one year? As a compromise?"

"Yeah," he said. "We'll work it out."

She kissed his shoulder. "And you can write me love letters."

He laughed. "I don't know how good at that I'll be."

"Please? Every girl collects love letters, you know."

"You still have Mo's?" he asked.

"I burned them," she said. "Didn't you write Laura any?"

"I wrote her letters occasionally. Mostly about what I was up to. I'm not very romantic."

Tami draped her leg over his. "That's okay. I don't want you digging up my grave anyway."

"What?"

She told him about her conversation with Mrs. Hernandez regarding _Wuthering Heights_. "She was a really funny lady." Tami sniffled.

Eric held her tight. "You need to cry again, babe, go on ahead. I'm here."

"You're more romantic than you know, Eric."

 **[Monday, May 2]**

Eric held Tami's hand tightly through the entire memorial service. She listened to Mrs. Hernandez's children, a 50-something son and a daughter, and her grandchildren, who were in their 20s, speak about her. She didn't really recognize the woman they were describing – a mild mother of two, who spent her entire life in one region of Texas.

The Mrs. Hernandez she knew had been larger than life.

The woman's late husband had owned a candy store, though – that much was true. Her son spoke of how his mother had painstakingly decorated truffles by hand, making miniature works of art.

Tami wondered how well Mrs. Hernandez's own family had known her, if perhaps she had lived a different life in her own imagination, and if only she had been born in a different time, she might have done some of the amazing things her mind dreamt up.

After the service, Tami had to keep explaining to people who she was and why she was there. In Eric's truck afterwards, she burst into tears, and he held her.

"They want to know how I knew her? Where were _they_ the past four months? Not even a line in the guestbook. I would _never_ do that to my mother."

"Of course you wouldn't."

She drew in a deep, shaky breath. He let go of her and put a hand on her knee and squeezed. "Hey, Tami, she at least had you. Those last few months. She had you."

Tami dug in her purse. She pulled out the tissues and blew her nose. "Thanks for being here with me."

 **[Saturday, May 7]**

Eric held a beer out to Tami. He'd brought a picnic dinner – in a basket and everything – and they'd spread out a blanket at the secret paradise to eat. The sun was not yet setting, but it would begin to lower soon.

"No thank you," she said. "I don't really like beer. I liked the mimosas your dad made, though. I think maybe I could like wine."

"I'll bring wine next time, then," he said, and put the beer back in the cooler.

She scooted closer to him, wrapped an arm around his waist, and kissed his cheek. "If you want to fool around this weekend," she said, "we better do it tonight. I can't see you tomorrow. It's Mother's Day. Shelley and I are taking our mom out to dinner."

She could feel his muscles tensing. "You okay?"

"Sure. Yeah."

She raised her hand and toyed with his hair. "You're upset because you're thinking about your own mother abandoning you." It was an observation, not a question.

He shrugged. "My dad and I will probably go to the movies." He was staring straight ahead and holding his lips together as though trying to keep himself from crying. "It'll be fine."

She kissed his cheek. "I cry every Father's Day," she told him.

"Well I don't cry every Mother's Day. No sense crying over someone I never even met. How ridiculous is that?"

"It's not at all ridiculous." She pulled his head toward her, so it was bent against her neck, and just held him. He was very quiet. He didn't sound like he was crying, but she felt his tears wet her flesh.

After a while, he sat straight and rubbed his hand quckly across his eyes and took in a deep breath. He looked out through the opening in the foliage to the lake. There was a boat in the distance. "I don't see anyone out there other than those fishermen, and I don't think they can see us if we move the blanket a little."

They repositioned the blanket to a more secluded spot, leaving the picnic basket where it was. As they kissed and he ran a hand up her leg under her skirt, she said, "I'd like to be on top this time."

He smiled. "Whatever I need to do to keep the customer satisfied."

 **[Sunday, May 8]**

Tami's family went to a sit-down restaurant precisely four times a year – Tami's birthday, Shelley's birthday, Mom's birthday, and Mother's Day. When Dad was alive, they had gone every Sunday after church.

Tonight, they were at the Italian place where Eric had taken Tami for their first date, because Mom thought the eggplant was "to die for." While they were waiting for their desert – a single desert they planned to share, Mom reached her arms left and right to take each of their hands in hers. "Girls," she said, "I have some really exciting news to share with you. Some good news. I need to use the restroom, but I'm going to go ahead and tell you first, and when I come back, we can discuss any questions you have about it."

Shelley looked at Tami quizzically.

"John has proposed to me," Mom said, "and I've accepted him." She squeezed both of their hands and stood. "I'll be right back."

As soon as she was out of earshot, Shelley leaned forward on the table, looked at Tami across from her, and said, "What the fuck? Pastor John? He's so old!"

"Shelley, he's only fifty. She's forty."

"He's so plain."

"He's average looking. He's not ugly or anything like that," Tami said.

"But she has the hots for Mr. Taylor!"

"Mr. Taylor has absolutely no interest in Mom. And he has a new girlfriend. He and Mom aren't really compatible."

"And she and Pastor John are? Come on! You know she doesn't love him. She doesn't look at him the same way she looked at Dad."

"You're right. I don't think she loves him in that way. But …Shelley, this is Mom's decision."

"She's settling," Shelley said, shaking her head. "She's just settling."

There was nothing wrong with Pastor John. He was polite, sober, and moral. He had a steady job, and a parsonage that was bigger than their house. He shared Mom's religion. He wasn't all hellfire and brimstone, either, in fact, he was probably more religiously liberal than Mom. And he clearly liked her. But Tami didn't think he made Mom's heart race, the way Dad probably had.

Mom _would_ be settling. But maybe, when you'd worked at just above minimum wage for six years, and you'd swallowed your pride and occasionally relied on charity, and you'd struggled to raise two daughters alone, and you had a house with bedrooms the size of walk-in closets, and you'd been without the affection of a man for over half a decade…maybe you were ready to settle.

Shelley shook her head. "You realize this means I'm going to have to live with him for at least the next three years."

"He's not a bad man, Shelley."

"I know, but what kind of rules is he going to enforce?"

"I can't imagine him being any stricter than Mom."

"Probably not," Shelley said, "but he might be more difficult to fool." She silenced herself as their mother approached and sat back down at the table.

Mom looked from Tami to Shelley. "So what do y'all think?"

"We think we want you to be happy, Mom," Tami said. "And we both wish you well and hope you will be."

Mom smiled.

Shelley was silent and looked a bit sullen.

"We're getting married the first weekend in June," Mom said. "I'm going to put the house up for sale. The parsonage has three bedrooms. The secondary bedrooms are bigger than either of the ones you have now, and you girls will have your very own bathroom to share, because there are _two_. That is, if you stay in Tyler, Tami. Because…I know you've thought of going to Waco Community College to be near Eric, and I know you didn't feel you could afford to do that." Mom took Tami's hand. "But I think you should do it, Tami, if that's what your heart tells you."

This surprised Tami greatly. She thought her mother would favor practicality over following a boy any day. Boys were trouble, as far as she was concerned, weren't they? "You think I should follow a boy to another town?"

"I think you should get an education and put yourself in a better position to support yourself than I did. And I think Eric has brought out the best in you when it comes to your mind and your self-confidence. I think he's a good influence on you, and if you go to Waco, and you live near him, and you live near Baylor, and you're in a college town, in the middle of all that…well, I think you might be more likely to follow through on your goals than if you're still stuck in Tyler, working at the same Chili's you've worked at since you were 14, seeing the same people you went to high school with, who didn't move on…"

"But…the debt I'd have to – "

"Tami, I won't need your help anymore. Don't you understand? When I get married and move in with John, I can sell the house. I should be able to pay off _all_ of our credit card debt and give you and Shelley _each_ $3,000 for college. And I'd still have a bit of savings of my own."

Tami blinked. $3,000? With her photography prize money, that would pay for two full years of tuition at Waco Community. All of her work earnings could go toward room and board. She could be near Eric the whole time, but wait to try to transfer to Baylor until she'd put in two full years at the cheaper college. "Mom, I – " Tami hesitated. Her mother wasn't marrying this man for _her_ , was she? "Mom, I really appreciate that. But are you sure you're going to be happy with Pastor John?"

"He's a good man, Tami," she said.

"But are you _attracted_ to him?" Tami asked.

The thought of having sex with a guy she wasn't attracted to…it made her skin crawl just a little, especially now that she knew what it was like to have sex with a guy she was _intensely_ attracted to. Kissing Tom that one time had been tolerable, but she couldn't imagine having to have sex with him.

Shelley's eyes flitted from Tami's to Mom's.

"I respect John," Mom said, "and he's kind to me. He cares for me. I think he'll be a respectful and attentive husband."

"You don't love him," Shelley said bluntly.

"You can grow to love a person, honey," Mom said.

"You _can_ ," Shelley said, "doesn't mean you _will_. This all sounds kind of… _mercenary_ …to me."

Mom got that angry expression of hers, where her eyelids fluttered and her lip twitched into a slight frown, but she spoke calmly. "You two are growing up. Tami won't be with us for more than another year or two at most, and she may go to Waco this August. You have three years until you graduate, Shelley, and then who knows where life will take you. It would be nice for me to have someone to have dinner with in the evenings, to sit on the couch with and watch the news, to talk to about my day, to put his arm around me, to care about me. I'm forty years old, and I'm not getting any younger."

"You're still gorgeous," Shelley insisted. "You could have any guy you wanted, if you just went after him."

"No, Shelley, I couldn't. And there aren't a lot of single, respectable, stable middle-age men in this world. And there are far worse things to base a marriage on than respect and companionship. Like lust, for instance."

Shelley rolled her eyes. "A passionless marriage," Shelley said, "sounds fabulous."

"You're young," Mom said. "You're romantic. But passion fades, or at least it fluctuates. Even with your father, it fluctuated. I hope you two girls, when you choose husbands, are sensible enough to choose men you can respect even during those times when the passion isn't there. Men you can trust. Reliable men. Men you can envision as decent fathers to your children."

Tami wondered if her mother regarded Eric to be such a man.

"I'd like you two to be my bridesmaids. I'd like you…I'd really like your blessing." She sounded like she was about to cry.

It was an unusual thing, that their mother should ask for _their_ blessing, the mother who had born the weight of raising them alone for six years, who had assumed an authoritative role, playing both father and mother.

Shelley, who had been sitting with her arms crossed over herself and slumped back in her chair, sat straight. "Sorry, Mom," she said. "Of course you have my blessing. I just want you to be happy."

"Me too," Tami said. She raised her water glass. "Congratulations, Mom."

Shelley raised her glass too.

Mom smiled, and the glasses clinked, a muted, semi-joyful sound.


	38. May 9 - June 4

**[Monday, May 9]**

At the cafeteria lunch table, Tami told Eric about her mother's engagement.

"Wow," he said. "That's fast. Didn't you say they started dating last November?"

"That's less than seven months," Joey said.

"He can count," Sarah quipped. "No wonder he's surpassing me in Calculus."

Joey smirked. "She can use three-syllable words. No wonder she's surpassing me in English."

Sarah smiled at him. "See, I'll teach you to appreciate sarcasm yet."

"He's probably in a hurry," Tami said. "He's probably eager to have sex with her. She won't until she's married."

Joey glanced at Sarah. "I can see how that might make a man rush to the altar."

Eric pushed his tray aside. "How do you feel about this?"

"Ambivalent," Tami answered. "I understand why she's doing it, and it's probably for the best for her, but I just want more for her, you know? I wanted her to find someone like my dad. Someone who could make her laugh and blush and…" She shook her head. "At least Pastor John is decent. I see some of these single moms, dating guys who come on to their teenage daughters…" She shook her head. "It's vile. I don't have to worry about Shelley. And I don't have to worry about my mom financially anymore."

"I thought pastors were poor," Sarah said.

"No, he has a good salary," Tami said. "Steady, you know. Not a lot. I don't know what it is, but middle-class. On top of that he gets a parsonage. My mom can sell our house now." Tami smiled at Eric and reached across the table to take his hand and seize his full attention. "She's giving me $3,000 for college. I can afford to live in Waco now. I think I should go to Waco Community for two years, and then try to transfer to Baylor."

She wasn't sure he'd heard her. For a moment he just blinked. Then a huge smile burst out across his face. "This is fantastic!" He leaned across the table and kissed her.

"No PDA!" Joey insisted.

After a moment, they broke it up. "I just need to find an apartment and some roommates," Tami said.

"Not going to _live in sin_ with Eric?" Sarah asked.

"I have to live in the dorms if I want my scholarship to cover housing." Eric winked at Tami. "But I can sneak you in some nights."

"Your poor roommate, Eric," Sarah said. "I hope I don't get some roommate who's doing the nasty every night."

"You could avoid that if you and I got an apartment together," Joey said. "You know…just as friends. Friends who occasionally shower together."

Sarah laughed.

 **[Wednesday, May 18]**

Tami did not work at Chili's the night she graduated from Tyler High School. After she grasped that diploma in her hand, and shook the principal's, and tossed her hat in the air, she went to the secret paradise with Eric. She told her mother she was going to the all night graduation party, which was a supervised, alcohol-free lock-in at the community center.

"I don't know why you still lie to her," Eric said as they parked his truck just outside the secret paradise. "You're 18. An adult. You're going away to college."

"It's just easier that way," Tami said. "It's not like you tell your dad, bye, I'm going to get laid!"

He switched off the engine. "No, I just tell him I'm going out for an _emergency repair_."

Tami chuckled. "How is that going with the new woman?"

"I have no idea, but he's out doing emergency repairs every weekend now. She goes to your church. What do you know about her?"

"Easter was the first time I really noticed her. I think she's only there occasionally."

"Hey," he said softly, leaning closer. "You're a high school graduate now."

She smiled. "I know." She kissed him.

"I'm proud of you. _Most improved_."

She giggled. They'd had an awards assembly on Monday, and that was the certificate she received.

They stretched out a blanket on the soft grass and made love. Tami straddled him, and Eric, hands on her hips, fixed his eyes on her jostling breasts as she took her pleasure in slow, grinding circles.

"So beautiful, Tami," he murmured.

"Eric..." she begged, moving faster.

He matched her pace.

She whimpered and bit down on her lip.

"Don't try to silence it, babe. I want to hear you when you cum."

The pleasure ripped through her, and she let the cry escape.

[*]

Eric's hands were resting on his naked stomach. He was surprisingly comfortable being stark naked around her. Tami wasn't quite there yet. She'd thrown her t-shirt back on after their lovemaking for the long, lazing around part.

She looked up at the purplish black sky that was fading into night. He reached for her hand, and they laced their fingers together.

"Have you thought of going on the pill?" he asked.

"You want me to?"

"It's more secure. Condoms have a twelve percent failure rate. My dad seriously drilled that little factoid into me. I guess he was using a condom when he knocked my mom up with me. The pill's more like 99% effective. And…" He fell silent.

"And what?"

"I think sex feels better without condoms."

"Maybe it was just better with Laura," she muttered, suddenly jealous of his past relationship. How many times had they had sex? Laura had probably perfected pleasing him.

"Tami. Really? I just meant…not having that barrier between me and you…I'd like that. You might like it better too."

She felt bad about making the comparison. She decided to tease him to lighten the mood. She rolled on her side and rested a hand on his bare hip. "You're being a bit presumptions. You just assume we're going to be having sex on a regular basis?"

"We…uh….we aren't?"

She suppressed her smile and attempted to appear very serious. "I may want to slow it down a notch. Go back a few steps."

"May I ask why?"

She laughed. She kissed his lips. "I'm just teasing you. I'll talk to my doctor," she said. "I'll get on the pill."

He smiled. "You're evil."

Eric rolled her underneath himself and began peppering her with ticklish kisses.

 **[Saturday, June 4 ]**

Mrs. Hayes became Mrs. John Wilson in a traditional Baptist ceremony. The wedding crowd was larger than either of her daughters had imagined it would be. Tami supposed that was what happened when you married a pastor. Half the congregation was present for the nuptials.

The church's assistant pastor married them, and Mom wore the traditional white, though her dress was simple and inexpensive. There was an excessive number of scripture readings, which Shelley whispered complaints through, and the wedding sermon was unusually long. Tami thought her feet were going to blister in her heels, and she wanted to step down from the stage and kick them off.

Eric was at Baylor for the weekend for some kind of football-related meeting with his future coaches, so he'd had an excuse not to attend with her.

"Too bad for Eric," Shelley told Tami at the alcohol-free cake and punch reception in the fellowship hall afterward. "He could have seen you in this gorgeous bridesmaid dress." Her words dripped sarcasm, because Mom had not chosen the most flattering apparel; they were an uncertain color (like _blood mixed with purple jelly beans_ , Shelley suggested) and there were these over-large flowery poofy puffs in the breast area. Shelley raised her glass of punch to her lips. "I wish Kash were here, and then I could dance. If they _had_ dancing at the reception."

"So…what is going on there, with you and him?" Tami asked.

"Less than I'd like. I told you he was crazy conservative religious. He won't let me do more than stick my tongue down his throat. Though he certainly seems to like that." She sighed. "He's talking about quitting the football team, though. Says he wants to dedicate his energy to the rifle team instead."

"So?"

"The rifle team doesn't have cheerleaders. Or stadiums. Or…it's just not that cool."

"Do you like _him_ , Shelley, or do you like that he's a football player?"

Shelley shrugged. "I kind of like him. I guess. I don't know."

"Well, if you don't like him, don't string the poor boy on anymore."

"Thanks, Mom." Shelley nodded toward their mother, who was talking to someone at the head table. "She's going to have to have sex with him tonight. Do you realize that? Sex with the _pastor_."

"Who knows," Tami said, sipping her punch. "Maybe he's great in the sack."

She and Shelley both laughed.

When the couple was headed out the door to drive off for their short, two-night honeymoon along the San Antonio river walk, Mom tossed her bouquet, and Shelley caught it.

Shelley looked at the flowers and shook her head. "No fucking way I'm limiting my options any time soon." She handed the bouquet to Tami.

 **[*]**

Mom had closed on the old house last week and sold most of the furniture, as Pastor John's parsonage was already fully furnished. Tami had kept the futon couch/bed and her desk to take to college, and they were currently in storage in Pastor John's garage. They'd moved everything else into the parsonage on Thursday. Pastor John had slept on the couch while Mom had slept in the bedroom they would soon share. Though Tami certainly had not been in a rush after her mistake with Paul, she couldn't imagine waiting until your _wedding night_ to have sex with the man you'd pledged to spend the rest of your life with. She hoped Mom didn't hate it.

Tonight, Shelley and Tami were alone in the parsonage, as they would be Sunday night as well, until Mom and her new husband returned on Monday evening.

"We should totally throw a party," Shelley said as she put up her feet on the coffee table.

Tami tuned the TV to _Saturday Night Live_. Pastor John's TV was six inches larger than theirs had been, and it had a remote control, but he didn't have cable either. He'd apparently installed an outdoor antenna, though, because he got seven channels instead of four. "We're not throwing a party in the parsonage."

"Can I at least invite Kash over?"

"No."

"Sucks to have you as a babysitter, Tami."

"I'm going to college in less than three months. Let's spend some quality sister time here." Tami was going to miss her baby sitter, despite all the times Shelley had annoyed her.

"Fine. Then can we at least have a little of Pastor John's secret stash of whiskey?"

"What?"

Shelley made Tami follow her, down the hall past the guest bedroom that would be Tami's room until she left for Waco, past the hall bathroom, and past the bedroom that was now Shelley's. Shelley's room had once belonged to Pastor John's son, who was now married, twenty-five, and a missionary in South America. Shelley paused in the hallway and nodded to the family photos on the wall.

"Is that his late wife?" she asked, looking at one photo of a smiling woman.

"I think so."

"Why didn't he take it down before he married Mom?"

"I don't know, Shell. She still has more than one framed photo of Dad, and he's been dead longer."

"Yeah, but it's not like she'd put it on the nightstand, right in his face."

"Maybe he didn't even think to do it. I don't think he's updated the decor of this house since she died."

Shelley shrugged and led Tami to the staircase that went up to the loft, where she paused. Beyond the staircase, had they kept going, they would have come to the master bedroom Mom and the pastor would soon share, which had a walk-in closet that had made mom swoon and its own master bathroom.

"Ladies first," Shelley said, and pointed up.

"You're not a lady?" Tami asked her.

"I try not to be."

The loft was set up as a small library, with an arm chair and a hassock, an old-fashioned roll topped desk, and bookshelves crammed with books. Shelley went straight to the farthest book case. "Found this when y'all three were out shopping for drapes." Mom hadn't liked the color of Pastor John's drapes. _Stuck in the 70s_ , Mom had said. _All those yellows and oranges._ T _his is the 80s._

Shelley pulled out a bunch of books and began pressing against the wall paneling until a little square piece of it popped opened.

"You found that how, exactly?" Tami asked.

"These are Stephen King books. I took them out because I wanted to decide which one to read. And then I saw it was discolored."

Tami stepped forward. Inside the little cubbyhole was a near full bottle of whiskey and a whiskey glass.

"Think Mom knows about his secret habit?" Tami asked.

"Probably not," Shelley said. "Let's just be glad it wasn't a bunch of photos of naked boys."

"Ewwww! Shelley, did you have to go there!"

Shelley laughed. "Lighten up," she said.

"Do you think he's an alcoholic?" Tami asked.

"One bottle does not an alcoholic make."

"But it's _secret,_ " Tami said.

"You know half his congregation thinks drinking is a sin. He probably can't risk them finding out he doesn't. Hell, Tami, Mom thinks it's a sin. He probably doesn't want her to know either." She took the bottle out. "Just a little shot each."

"Shell, you're fourteen."

"I'll be fifteen in July."

"You are _not_ drinking whiskey. Besides which, he'll notice. Put it back."

Shelley sighed and slid it back in and closed the panel. She began to return the books. "As much as I love you, Tam, and as much as I'm going to miss you, I have a sneaking suspicion my life is going to be a lot more fun without you around."

"And that's what worries me," Tami admitted. She put her arm around Shelley's shoulders and said, "C'mon, baby sis, let's go laugh at some SNL together."


	39. August 5

**A/N:** _I'm wrapping this story up in the next chapter because (1) I'm reaching a good stopping place where they head off to college, and (2) as usually happens when I write long stories, readers seem to lose interest and reviews taper off a lot toward the end._

 _I did have many more chapters written in my mind, though, so if there is enough interest, I will post a sequel that picks up at college when this is over. I intended this to be shorter, but every time I went to edit a chapter for posting, I ended up writing a new one in addition. So I guess it became two works instead of one._

 **[Friday, August 5]**

Eric would be leaving tomorrow to settle in at Baylor before summer training camp. Tami would quit work at Chili's in another two weeks and drive to Waco. She wasn't thinking of any of those details now, however, as she lay on her back in Eric's bed.

He moved inside of her, pinning her hands on either side of his pillow, breathing heavily into her ear.

"Please," she begged him.

"You like this?" he asked.

"Yes…Please…."

He slowed down. "Please what, Tami?" He was barely moving now, and it tortured her that he wasn't.

"Faster," she begged.

"Like this?" He moved a little faster, but too gently.

"Harder," she whispered.

"What's that?" he asked, teasing her now. "I couldn't hear you."

How did he have so much discipline? He was only eighteen. Shouldn't he be losing it completely now?

Two could play this game. She took his earlobe between her teeth and scrapped it in just the slow, gentle way she knew sent shivers through him.

"Damn, Tami."

She kissed his ear and whispered, very softly, "What do _you_ want, Eric? _You_ want to take me harder, don't you?"

"Oh God, babe..." His voice was low and deep, his words almost a groan. " _Yes_."

When both were finally spent, she settled in against his chest and glanced at the clock, which read 4:30 PM.

It had been a busy summer, with both working fifty hours a week to save up before college, but they'd found time for each other. They'd spent a number of hours in the secret paradise, swimming in the lake, talking, hiking, and making love. They'd also hung out a bit with Sarah and Joey, watching movies and playing board games in Joey's basement, Tami and Eric privately betting over whether Joey would ever manage to get past first base with Sarah.

Eric was still recovering his breath when Tami started talking. "The Student Office at Waco Community found me a possible apartment and roommates."

He made a noise, something that sounded like an _A'ight_.

"I'd have three roommates. Two of them are sharing a room, but I'd get my own. And it's cheap."

"Uh-huh."

"And they don't smoke, any of them. Unless the guys smoke cigars occasionally or something."

Eric's breath, which had just about leveled, drew in again, and he almost seemed to choke. He coughed. "Guys? What do you mean guys? You're having male roommates?"

"Two of them. The other one's a girl. One guy and a girl are a couple, I guess, because they're sharing a room. The other guy will have his own room. I'll have my own room."

"So one's a _single_ guy? I'm not sure I like that."

She laughed. "Oh, Eric, don't be silly."

"Nah, I'm serious. How would _you_ feel if I lived with some random girl. Honestly?"

She thought about it. "Maybe a little bit annoyed. But I _trust_ you."

"But would you _prefer_ I didn't?"

"Yes," she admitted. "Well, the only other option they've found for me is a tiny two bedroom. One bathroom. One other person. The kitchen is an efficiency. There's no dining room. The living room is tiny. My room would practically be a closet."

The Student Services office had faxed her floor plans for the two apartments to the fax at Chili's, which she'd gotten permission to use.

"But the person is a girl person?"

"Yes, she's a _girl person_."

"Well that one sounds real nice," he said.

"Does it? From the description I've given you?"

"Come on, you don't want three roommates when you can have one!"

She sighed. "My share of the rent is slightly cheaper on that one. And it _is_ closer to campus."

"Well there you go," he said. "What more could you ask for?"

"Space. More space." She laughed. "Okay. If it makes you _feel_ better, I'll put in for the apartment with the _girl person_." She looked into his eyes. "You be good," she told him. "Down at Baylor until I get there." She suspected there were going to be a number of college girls - many of them older and quite experience - hanging out around football camp and coming onto him for the next two weeks.

He stroked her hair. "Aren't you glad you're moving to Waco now after all, so you can keep an eye on me?"

"I trust you." Tami did. Still, she was glad she'd be nearby. She realized, now, that for all her strident claims about her faith in their relationship, she might have started to feel a little uneasy after a month or two apart.

"How are your headaches?" he asked. "What did the doctor say?"

Tami had been getting random, splitting headaches for the past several weeks. She sighed. "Well, I need to talk to you about that…she said it's probably a side effect of the pill for me."

"What?"

"Yeah. It happens sometimes, with some people I guess. The headaches usually improve over time, but mine haven't been. She suggested I just go off the pill and use another method of birth control."

"Oh."

"What do you think?" Tami asked.

"Well, I think you need to not be in pain is what I think."

"I don't want an IUD either. I just don't like the idea of something... _in_ me."

Eric laughed.

"You know what I mean." She kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry. I know you like sex better without condoms."

"I like it pretty well with them, Tami. I like sex anyway I can get it." He smiled. "I mean, anyway I can get it with _you_."

"So you don't mind going back to condoms?"

"No. We just have to be careful with them."

She kissed him. "I'm going to miss you the next two weeks. Be _good_."

"Always."

They kissed and sported with one another, petted and nipped and laughed, but it was too soon after the last time for him to rally for yet another round. They fell asleep and then awoke at 6:30 PM when Mr. Taylor announced, quite loudly from the kitchen, "I'm home!"

They hastened to dress.


	40. August 12 - 20: Leaving for College

**[Friday, August 12]**

Tami left work at Chili's at 10 PM and hung out with Sarah for an hour. They just sat on the hood of Sarah's car in the far corner of the parking lot, drinking soda in Chili's to-go cups and talking.

"I can't believe it," Sarah said, "but I'm going to miss this town when I go to UT. I'm going to miss you the most."

"We'll stay friends," Tami said.

"Will we?" Sarah asked. "How often does that happen, do you think? You're going to be busier than you realize. Work, school...Eric." She shrugged. "I haven't been your best friend for a while, Tami."

"What are you talking about? Of course you are."

"No, honey, Eric is."

Tami couldn't deny that.

"It's okay. It's what happens," Sarah said with a shrug. "I've wanted to escape for so long. I've worked my ass off waitressing and getting good grades so I could get some scholarship money so I won't have to be like my parents, stuck doing factory work my whole life." She looked out at the neon Chili's sign several rows away from her car. She sighed. "But then, when I think of driving off to UT, I realize...I don't know. It's like a part of me dying. That sounds so stupid."

"No, I kind of get it," Tami assured her.

"It's because I know I'm not coming back here. Thanksgiving. Christmas. That's it. Otherwise, I'm not coming back here. I'll get a summer job in Austin...I'm moving on. This is it. In one week, it's goodbye."

Tami sipped her coke through her straw. It squeaked when she pulled away from it. "I think I'll be back more often. I have a baby sister here still. But...I don't know. Our lives are about to change. We're about to become different people."

"Yeah, exactly," Sarah agreed. "We don't just have to say goodbye to Tyler, we have to say goodbye to the people we used to be."

"But we're each kind of bringing someone from this world. I have Eric. You have Joey."

"I broke up with Joey," Sarah said.

"Oh." Tami wasn't particularly surprised, but she felt bad for Joey.

"We're still friends. In fact, we're getting an apartment together in Austin. _Nonsexual_ roommates," Sarah insisted. "We'll be seeing other people in college."

"Poor Joey."

"I _tried_ , Tami. I really did. We make better friends than lovers. He's a great friend."

"I'm surprised he still wants to be your friend. Most guys, after getting dumped…Sarah, he's probably still holding out hope."

"I can't help that. I can't do anything about that."

"But living with him?"

"Neither of us wants to live in the dorms. Our scholarships only cover tuition. We found a cheap place, near where I'll be working. I don't want to live with someone I don't know. I got a job already."

They continued talking until their sodas were drained, and the ice had melted.

Tami got home to the parsonage just after 11:30 PM. Pastor John was sitting at the kitchen table, his hand lodged in his silver-gray hair, making notes on a yellow legal pad, with three books open before him on the kitchen table. He usually retreated upstairs at night to study (and perhaps to take a nip from his secret stash of whiskey). The loft was his refuge in a house full of women, but Shelley was sleeping over at a friend's tonight, so it was quiet downstairs.

"Sorry I'm late," Tami said. "I got caught up talking to my friend Sarah after work."

He looked up. "You got a letter today. It's on the kitchen counter."

"Thanks."

He muttered something she didn't understand.

"Sorry?" Tami asked. "What?" She sifted through the mail and pulled out the letter, return address Eric Taylor, Baylor University.

"Oh, sorry, just talking to myself. In Greek. Getting ready for Sunday's sermon."

"I take it my mom's asleep?"

"Turned in an hour ago." He returned his focus to his notes.

Tami noticed that Pastor John stayed up later than Mom most nights. Maybe he was a night owl, maybe he was waiting to see if Tami got in safely, or maybe Mom wasn't very welcoming in bed. Tami wondered how often they had sex. They took a "nap" together every Sunday after church. Maybe sex was a weekly Sabbath duty for Mom. Did Mom enjoy it, Tami wondered, or did she just close her eyes and think of Texas?

"Think I will, too," Tami said, eager to read Eric's letter.

"'Nite, Tami."

"'Nite, pastor."

He looked up. "Call me John, please."

She smiled. She wasn't _ever_ going to call him John. That was what her mother called him. This man was, technically, her stepfather now, but she had trouble envisioning him as part of her family. He was nice enough. Quiet. Didn't talk much unless he was preaching. When he did talk, it was to exchange niceties, or to communicate information. He did, however, Tami observed, kiss her mother every morning when she handed him a cup of coffee, and say to her, "Thank you, dear. I love you." Every morning. Like clockwork. _I love you._

Tami wondered if he really did love her mother, or if he just found her quite pretty, and he was lonely, the way Mom was lonely, and he wanted the occasional Sabbath sex.

She left him at the kitchen table and retreated to her room. As she settled at the desk, she ripped open Eric's letter. They'd talked once since he'd settle in, but they were trying to avoid long distance charges during their two weeks apart. A twenty minute phone call was equivalent to an hour's work at Chili's, after all, and although Eric had some savings, he didn't have a job at the moment. He was planning to work part-time as soon as football season was over.

Tami was relieved to finally get a letter from him. It was dated Tuesday the 9th.

 _Dear Tami,_

 _Thanks for your two letters._

She'd sent four, but she supposed he hadn't gotten them all yet.

 _I miss you. I wish you were here in my bed with me right now. The things I'd do to you, babe…_

Tami thought of Mrs. Hernandez asking if her football player was romantic and laughed.

 _Training is exhausting. Workouts like you wouldn't believe. Drills, drills, drills. We partied a little on Saturday and regretted it on Sunday. Coach shows no mercy._

Tami wondered how many girls were at this party.

 _So Sunday night we just had a few beers in the common room. My roommate started challenging everyone to feats of strength. He's from New York. Burly, squat guy. Everyone just calls him Stumpy. I'm not even sure what his real name is. He has a funny accent, and he cusses all the time – I mean, even around girls. He likes plastering the wall with posters of the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders, so when you come to my room and see all that, don't get mad at me. But he's fine. We get along. More or less._

 _Some of the guys started trying to lift the common room furniture, but no one could lift it as high as Stumpy. This punter, Johnny, tried, and he dropped the couch and broke his toe. He's gonna be on the bench for a while now. Idiot._

Tami smiled. She guessed maybe college wasn't all that different from high school.

 _The dorm I'm in has suites, six rooms around a common room, each suite with its own bathroom._

 _I was brushing my teeth this morning, and this girl steps out of the shower in nothing but a towel. She asks me if we had sex last night, and I say, "Sorry, but I don't even know who you are. I went to bed early last night. Alone." And she says, "Who's the other guy with black hair?"_

 _Well, I knew it wasn't Stumpy, because he passed out early last night in our room, so I figured it must be Mark. Mark's three inches shorter than me, but he's about my build. She thanks me for helping to solve the puzzle, and then asks which room is Mark's room. I don't know if she actually had sex with Mark the night before or not, but she walked into his room wearing nothing but a towel._

Tami shook her head.

 _And I guess I'm going to have to get used to girls in the bathroom._

Tami hoped none of them accidentally – or worse yet purposefully – stepped straight into the shower with him.

 _I miss you so much, babe. So much. I'm so horny for you._

Ah, yes, her boyfriend, the true romantic. She smiled anyway.

 _Lots of love, XOXOXOX,  
_

 _Eric_

 **[Saturday, August 20]**

Eric returned to Tyler to help Tami load up her stuff the weekend before classes started. She had just led him into the guest room, where there were open, empty cardboard boxes all over the bed, when he locked the door.

He turned to her with a grin. "I missed you," he said.

She smiled back. "We're in the _parsonage_ , Eric."

He stepped forward and kissed her deeply. Something about that kiss tapped the two weeks of sexual energy that was pent-up inside her, but she was still nervous they'd be discovered. So when he swooped her up and set her down on the desk and began fondling her breasts lightly through her shirt, she said, "Eric, we're in the _pastor's_ house. He's in the living room."

Her mother was home, too, at the moment, baking in the kitchen.

"I know." Eric slid a hand up her leg and under her skirt. "You're a naughty girl aren't you?" He slipped a finger beneath the edge of her panties and she gasped. When his lips returned to hers, she began to unbuckle his belt.

It was hurried and hungry and exciting and nerve-racking all at the same time. She feared discovery the entire time he stood before her, gripping her hips so she wouldn't shift on the desk as he thrust, murmuring her name and how much he'd been thinking about doing this to her. Her anxiousness wasn't enough to eclipse her pleasure, however. With her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck, Tami buried her moans against his shoulder.

When they were done, he stood, his palms flat down on the desk, his head bent, panting against her.

"You did miss me," she said. "You've been a good boy, haven't you?"

"Always. I mean," he smiled, "except when you _want_ me to be bad."

She giggled.

He triple wrapped the condom in notebook paper and buried it in the trash can.

"We better take that trash out before we go," she said.

They got dressed and began packing her things.

There was a knock on the door. Pastor John said, "Your friends are here."

Tami was grateful the knock hadn't come in medias res.

Joey helped Eric load the desk, mattress, and frame of the futon bed/couch Tami's was taking from the old house into his pick-up. Sarah helped her finish packing.

When Tami left and embraced her mother and sister one by one, Mom and Shelley both cried. She felt a little teary herself.

Pastor John wished her well and handed her some "emergency money," a twenty and three tens. She thanked him. That would cover a week's rent at her new apartment. "Look after my mom," she told him. "And my sister."

"I will. Godspeed."

The four friends went out for one last hurrah. They stopped by the Tyler High football field so Joey and Eric could say goodbye. The boys drank three beers each on the field, tried kicking the ball through the goal post (Eric wasn't a particularly good kicker, or maybe he was slightly buzzed, but he was way off). They slapped their numbers, which were painted on the bleachers, one last time.

Joey would not be playing in college. He'd received an academic rather than a football scholarship, and though he could probably make it on the team as a walk on, he'd concluded that it was "too large a commitment. College ball," he said, "it's like having a full-time job on top of school. They should just pay you, really."

They went to lunch at Applebee's and then exchanged goodbyes.

"Are you gonna hug me, Taylor?" Sarah asked him after he'd slapped Joey on the back a few times in the restaurant parking lot. "I've always wanted to say I hugged _the_ Eric Taylor."

Eric smirked. "I'll even kiss your cheek, if Tami doesn't mind."

"Be my guest," Tami said.

Eric hugged Sarah and kissed her cheek. "I think I'm actually going to miss your sarcasm," he said.

"Look out for my best friend here," Sarah told him, "and just know that if you break her heart in college, I'll hunt you down."

"I'll keep that under advisement."

Joey pointed to his cheek. "Well, if Sarah got one, don't I?"

Eric kissed his cheek.

Joey jerked away, shouting, "Ewww! I meant from Tami!"

Eric cackled.

Tami shook her head and kissed Joey on the other cheek.

Eric and Tami got in their separate vehicles and began the caravan down to Waco.

The sun was bright over the horizon, and the near empty highway rolled out before her like an engraved invitation to a new world.

She hit the gas.

 **THE END**

 **(of Part One)**

 ** _sequel to follow_**


End file.
